


Big, Bright World

by RealName



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cheating, Drunk Sex, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Harry is engaged to someone else, Humor, Insecure Louis, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Original Character(s), Pining, Resisting temptation, Slow Burn, Tinder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 09:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7309045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealName/pseuds/RealName
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really was just a little crush in the beginning, nothing to be worried about. Louis had never really liked anyone he'd worked with in the past, but he was sure he could control himself. Little did he know that over time his 'little crush' would develop into a blazing inferno of Hell-fire proportions. Every day, Louis' feelings became more intense, more immediate, each little smile and gesture and silly flirtation mounting up into something palpable, with a life of its own. Louis felt it every moment they were together. </p><p>The only problem? Harry was engaged to someone else and had been from the moment Louis started working at Visionary. </p><p>Office AU (not based on the TV show).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big, Bright World

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, everyone! A few short notes before I start. I thought up the concept of this fic a few months ago and it's taken a long time to finish. Basically, I really wanted to write an office AU (not based on the TV show) where Harry and Louis are colleagues, but one of them is engaged and the other has to secretly pine. Now, I have never watched The Office before, but from what I've gathered there is a similar story line in the TV show? Just a small note to say that any similarities are not intentional, because I've honestly never watched it before. I really just wanted to write about an office crush, because we've all had them (or I have, at least) and my mind wouldn't rest until I'd completed it.
> 
> The song title this is based off is 'Big Bright World' by Garbage. I suggest you listen to it for ambiance. 
> 
> If you've read any of my other stories, you may notice that Darren makes another appearance in this one as 'original male character.' This is because I can't be bothered making up an entirely new character. He's almost become a character in his own right, at this point. 
> 
> I have no knowledge of how an advertising agency works. 
> 
> I do not own One Direction and none of the events in this story are/or ever were real. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Big Bright World

_You're mysterious_  
_You make no sense_  
 _I love you 'cause you're innocent_  
 _You fell out through a hole inside the sun_

_  
_

_  
_

Harry laughed and Louis melted like an ice-cream cone on a warm Summer's day.

Louis couldn't help it (honestly, he couldn't) because for years he'd been hopelessly, helplessly besotted with his work colleague and because he couldn't tell Harry with words, his face took the liberty to showcase it. Across the office, Niall fixed Louis with a knowing glance, then looked at Harry, who was staring at his computer, oblivious. When Niall returned his gaze to Louis, he raised a brow, as though silently saying ' _I know what you're doing and you're an idiot_ '. Louis didn't like that knowing glance so he pointedly ignored it by turning his cheek to Niall and smiling warmly at Harry, who beamed back.

“God, you're so funny, Louis,” Harry said, cheeks tinged pink, “the days would drag without you here.”

Louis' heart soared with the praise. He lived to make Harry laugh and tried ridiculously hard every day to make it happen. Luckily, he'd managed to keep his feelings secret to everyone in the office, apart from a few perceptive individuals. Niall never missed an opportunity to tell Louis what a lovesick idiot he was and Louis would always catch the blonde throwing warning glances from behind his computer, silently letting Louis know when he was being too obvious. Louis usually ignored him, but sometimes he heeded Niall's warnings and tried to reign himself in a bit. It was hard, though. Very hard.

Harry had been the first person Louis had met when he'd started working at _Visionary Advertising_. They'd met after Louis had been shown around the building by his new boss, Simon, then casually tossed at a desk beside a wide-eyed, curly-haired man and left to fend for himself. Harry had trained Louis during his first few weeks and Louis had developed a little crush on the young man with the sweet smile and gentle eyes. Whenever Harry had innocently leaned over Louis to show him something on the computer screen or pointed something out in his notes, Louis would inhale deeply, savouring the scent of Herbal Essences shampoo and coconut soap from The Body Shop. From there on, the obsession grew.

It really was just a little crush in the beginning, nothing to be worried about. Louis had never really _liked_ anyone he'd worked with in the past, but he was sure he could control himself. Little did he know that over time his 'little crush' would develop into a blazing inferno of Hell-fire proportions. Every day, Louis' feelings became more intense, more immediate, each little smile and gesture and silly flirtation mounting up into something palpable, with a life of its own. Louis felt it every moment they were together.

The only problem? Harry was engaged to someone else and had been from the moment Louis started working at _Visionary_.

When Louis had first discovered that Harry wasn't actually single, it'd felt like someone had just told him that the world really was flat after all and all the science books would have to be re-written. It was just...impossible. He couldn't comprehend it. Louis remembered it clearly to this day, the moment Harry had turned to him and casually mentioned his fiancé, Darren. _We've been together for four years_ , Harry had said, biting his lip in that adorable way Louis had grown to find impossibly alluring, _I'm sure I've mentioned him_. Harry most definitely _hadn't_ mentioned him, but Louis wasn't going to argue. Instead, he'd just smiled and went back to his work, dying inside.

Now, any self-respecting man would've realised that Harry was off-limits at that point. Unfortunately, the revelation about Harry having a fiancé had just made Louis' crush grow ten times in a matter of seconds. The fact that he _knew_ falling for Harry was a bad idea just made his feelings worse and he'd been struggling to keep control of them ever since.

It's true what people say about wanting what you can't have. Louis knew this painfully well.

Louis couldn't give up on his crush, though, nor could he get over it. He tried to, God knows he tried, but he always got sucked back in. The thing was, sometimes Louis felt like he wasn't alone in this crush. Sometimes Harry would smile at him a certain way, head tilted and lips soft, eyes focused on Louis like he was the best thing in the world and Louis would feel a zip of electricity run up his spine as they locked eyes for a few moments. Then, inevitably, one of them would find it all too much and look away. These were the moments that Louis lived and died for. Rare moments, but definitely real moments, _despite_ Niall's insistence that it was all just wishful thinking on Louis' part.

“You really have to get over this, man,” Niall said.

It was six o'clock and they were in the pub. Harry had just left to go home and see Darren and Louis was sulking, because it never got any easier hearing about Darren. Still, he thought he'd gotten a little bit better at hiding it.

“What do you mean?” Louis asked, taking a casual sip of _Corona,_ as though filling his mouth with beer meant he wouldn't have to talk.

Niall raised an eyebrow. Louis was fooling no-one.

“Don't play dumb, you're too good at it,” Niall smirked. Louis gave him the finger. Niall continued, “You're only going to make yourself miserable. Harry is getting married, Tommo, deal with it! Plenty more fish in the sea.”

Louis scoffed, “You sound like my Nan.”

“Yeah, well, maybe she's tired of your shit too.”

Louis sighed and let his forehead drop to rest on the sticky table. He felt Niall's hand on his head, trying to be soothing, but it just ended up making Louis feel like a beloved pet dog that's about to be put down. Louis mumbled,

“Don't you think if I could just 'get over him,' I would have already?”

“Maybe you're not trying hard enough,” Niall said.

Louis lifted his head back up and glared at Niall.

“Oh come on, don't give me that look,” Niall said, “you know you're not trying. What was all that flirting you were doing today about, huh? Not trying at all, mate.”

“ _Flirting_?” Louis tried to look scandalised, hand pressed delicately to his chest, but he couldn't fool Niall.

“ _Oh Louis, you're so funny_ ,” Niall said, fluttering his eyelashes in a mocking impression of Harry, though Louis felt it was more about mocking him, “ _the days would drag without you, Louis_.”

“Can nobody have a private conversation these days without somebody listening in?” Louis said, fixing Niall with a pointed look.

“You're walking on thin ice,” Niall said, “you know I'm right. Remember what happened with Zayn, yeah?”

Louis' face dropped and he sighed. He hated it when Niall brought Zayn up as a warning tale. Of course he knew Niall was right, the bloody bastard always was.

“I can't help it,” Louis said, “I've liked him for so long I'm not sure I know how to stop.”

Niall pursed his lips and dropped his gaze, looking at Louis with something scarily resembling sympathy. Louis hated that look.

“Maybe you should ease off a little, then?” Niall suggested, “Stop seeing him outside of work, things like that.”

The thought of Louis limiting his time with Harry left a bad taste in his mouth. Besides, he'd tried that before.

“I did try easing off,” Louis said.

“And what happened?”

“I felt too guilty.”

Flashbacks of Louis' short-lived attempts to quell his relationship with Harry came to the forefront of his mind. Sad eyes and pouted lips felt like stab wounds in his chest. Ignoring Harry was impossible.

“Well, how about seeing someone else?” Niall suggested.

“Like who?” Louis frowned.

“Ah Christ, I don't know,” Niall said, thinking for a moment before raising his index finger with an idea, “What about that guy you met on Tinder? Jake! What about Jake?”

Louis wrinkled his nose, “Nah.”

No other explanation needed. Just no. Niall shook his head, seemingly out of ideas,

“I give up.”

“Niall, honestly, it's fine,” Louis waved his hand dismissively, “you're making way too big a deal out of this whole Harry thing. I like the guy, I do, but I'm in complete control. I'm _fine_.”

Niall snorted and rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced,

“Whatever you say.”

-*-

When Louis arrived home, he tossed his keys onto the counter in his kitchen and relaxed down into the black leather couch in his living room. As he flicked on his television and turned the channel over to watch Graham Norton, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen and his heart gave a little twitch in his chest. It was Harry.

_Are you watching Graham Norton? :)_

Louis smiled. Sometimes he felt so in-sync with Harry it was a little terrifying. He replied,

_I literally just turned it on. Are you hiding outside my window or something? I'm scandalised._

A little light flirtation never harmed anybody. Harry replied almost instantly.

_I am, as a matter of fact. You're very boring..._

The comment was followed by several laughing emoticons, just to let Louis know that he was, in fact, joking. Harry was far too kind to inflict the kind of spirit-crushing humour that Louis thrived on. Louis found it very endearing. His tongue peeked through his lips as he concentrated on crafting a reply.

_Ha! Now I know you're lying. I'm never boring, that's just fact. You must be spying on some other, very attractive, but far less entertaining twenty-something year old._

Send. Then, just for good measure, Louis added:

_Perv._

OK, maybe that was a little too flirty. Maybe Louis needed to reign it in a little, but it was difficult to stop when Harry was so eager to play along.

_You're right, actually. I just had a second look and I'm actually spying on Liam. My bad._

Louis giggled and snuggled down into the cushions of his couch, holding the glowing light of his phone close to his face, as though sharing a secret with it. A low-level hum of satisfaction fizzed through his bones at the thought of Harry sitting right beside Darren in their home, texting Louis. Harry always messaged Louis, had done ever since they'd first started working together, and Louis loved the feeling of importance it gave him. Loved feeling like Harry genuinely enjoyed his company. Still, as much as he loved that feeling, it also irritated him, because how could Harry _not_ feel it? How could he possibly get the same feeling being with Darren as he got with Louis? Louis found it impossible to believe and yet here he was, a year later and Harry was still with Darren and Louis was still waiting on the sidelines like a lovesick fool.

Before Louis could reply, another text from Harry buzzed through.

_I really love that shirt she's wearing._

Louis took a quick glance at his television screen to see Liv Tyler wearing a peach blouse with a black neck ribbon Harry had a very eclectic taste in fashion. Louis found it delightful, even though Liam always insisted that Louis would rip anyone else apart for wearing some of the things Harry had dared to wear on staff nights out.

Louis conducted a quick search on his phone and managed to find the designer of Liv Tyler's shirt.

 _It's Saint Laurent_ , Louis typed, attaching a link.

 _You looked it up :)_ Harry immediately replied.

Louis mentally scolded himself for being so obvious. Still, if there was anything he'd learned after all this time infatuating over Harry, it was how to play things off.

_No big deal, I was shopping online for Lottie's birthday anyway._

Harry replied,

_You're buying your sister Saint Laurent?_

Louis snorted at the suggestion,

_Psh, she wishes. It'll be a Topshop knock-off._

_You're a delight._

Louis smirked,

_I know :)_

Their conversation went quiet for a while. Louis stared at the television screen, finely attuned to the sound of his phone sitting beside him. When ten minutes passed and Harry still hadn't written anything, Louis picked it up and began typing.

_Guess what Niall told me today..._

Harry replied almost instantly, as though he had been waiting eagerly beside his phone too.

_Did he tell you about his rash?_

Louis wrinkled his nose,

_No, but you can tell me about that later! He told me he's going to finally ask Lucy out on a date! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!_

Harry replied,

_NO WAY! After all this time?? I can't believe it. In fact, I won't believe it until I see it._

Louis.

_I don't know, he seemed pretty adamant about it._

Harry.

_But why now?_

Louis paused. He didn't really want to tell Harry that it was Louis' unrequited love for Harry that had spurred Niall into immediate action. Instead, he settled on saying,

_Guess he was just tired of pining. We'll have to keep our eyes and ears peeled tomorrow. See how things progress._

_Spy on them, you mean?_

_Not spying_ , Louis typed, _more like...investigating._

_Like detectives?_

Louis grinned,

_Yes, exactly. Love detectives._

Louis could practically imagine Harry's dimples popping in his cheeks.

_Love detectives. I like that :)_

Louis' heart soared. This is what a year-and-a-half of obsession had reduced him to.

_Well, we are the office dream team ;)_

Louis tapped the side of his phone with his finger and bit his lip. The rate of his heart kicked up a level in his chest. Harry replied,

_The dream team, huh? I like that too._

Louis stopped breathing. God, it wasn't even that implicit, but to Louis, it read like porn. Louis thought carefully about his reply. It felt like a game of Jenga, where the stack had become so complex that any move threatened to give the game away. Anything too bold would alert Harry to his feelings, but anything too subtle would be unsatisfying. The thing was, Louis feared Harry finding out about his feelings almost as much as he feared never telling him at all. Louis typed out a quick response:

_We should wear costumes or something. The office dream team need costumes._

Louis kept his eyes to his phone. Harry's texts never crossed any lines, but they always made Louis feel like they were poised on the edge of something, just waiting to fall.

 _What would we wear?_ Harry asked.

Louis thought for a moment, then replied,

_Well, I'd wear something black and leather. Like Batman, obviously._

_And what about me?? I'm not being Robin!_

Louis couldn't help himself. He replied:

_You'd obviously wear something sheer._

It was a reference to all the sheer shirts Harry owned, since he had a penchant for that particular type of material, but it came out sounding very flirtatious. Louis bit his lip when his phone buzzed.

_Haha, might get a yellow card from Simon!_

Louis snorted out a laugh.. Yellow cards were what their boss, Simon, used for calling out staff whose outfits violated office dress codes. No trainers, no jeans, no short skirts and no sheer! Louis' fingers danced along the touch-screen of his phone.

_I don't think Simon would object to seeing you in something sheer._

Louis felt drunk on how bold he was being tonight. Sometimes they would be like this, skirting a little too close to the edge, and Louis loved it.

_Oh really?_

Louis' heart gave a thump in his chest. His cheeks burned red and the buzz it gave him made him feel like saying something reckless. Sometimes he just wanted to reach through the phone and shake Harry. However, the thing that infuriated Louis the most was the fact that, even though their messages bordered on the lines of flirtatious, it was never enough to curb that lingering doubt in Louis' mind. The doubt that made him think that maybe, after all this time, it really was all in his head.

Louis wanted to say something reckless. He always was very bad at ignoring his impulses.

_I don't think anyone would object to that._

Louis held his breath. A moment passed and fear took over, prompting him to write a more light-hearted addition.

_Might improve work morale._

Louis put a hand over his face. Fuck, he was an idiot. Harry replied,

_Well, if it would improve morale..._

The moment felt charged. Even though they were both hidden behind their phones, Louis could still feel the electricity in the air. These moments were the reason why Louis felt he was not alone in this. The heated moments before one of them inevitably broke the tension by making a ridiculous joke and changing the subject. It was an impossible feeling to describe, to explain, which is why Louis often found himself tongue-tied when Niall asked him to explain exactly what made Louis think that Harry felt the same way. He couldn't do it. Describing the subtleties and complexities of their relationship was like trying to explain the necessity of oxygen to a plant.

Sure enough, when the silence had dragged on for too long, Harry sent Louis a very un-sexy gif of a woman in a sheer negligee falling off a bed to diffuse the tension, then changed the subject. A common method of diversion when their conversations became a little too...something.

When _Graham Norton_ ended and they'd said their 'Good Night's, Louis lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the things he wished he had the balls to say.

That night, he dreamed of Harry in peach silk.

-*-

Louis, Harry and Liam all gathered around Harry's desk to watch Niall approach Lucy from across the room. The blonde had almost reached the water cooler, where Lucy was standing with her hand on her hip, sipping cold water like she was in a Diet Coke commercial. Louis had to admit, he saw why Niall would be drawn to a girl like Lucy. She seemed wild and impish, with her close pixie cut and colourful dress sense, the kind of girl that you could just have fun with. Louis hadn't spoken to her that much since she mainly worked behind the reception desk, but from his brief encounters with her, his impression was wholly positive.

Liam and Harry watched in rapt silence, utterly fascinated, while Louis narrated the entire event unfolding by doing a voiceover in the style of a nature documentary.

“Observe, if you will, the way in which the rare and exotic Horan approaches his mate. Note his bright, full plumage. There is no doubt that the Horan is presenting himself to the female, like some sort of wonderful peacock. Truly inspiring.”

Harry covered his mouth with his hand to stop a honk from escaping his lips. Louis pursed his lips in an attempt to stop himself from breaking character. Across the room, Niall reached out his hand to touch Lucy's shoulder in an attempt to get her attention. At the last second, he choked.

“My God,” Louis gasped, setting his hand on Harry's shoulder and pointing at Niall, as though they were hiding under the cover of palm leaves in the Amazon, “did you see that?”

“Come on, Louis, this isn't funny,” Liam said, but his little smirk completely undermined his argument.

Louis raised an eyebrow at Liam and whispered to Harry, “I think I just heard a buzzard flying overhead. Pay it no mind, it'll go away soon.”

Harry chuckled. Liam scowled, but said nothing, turning his attention back to Niall.

“I hope he asks her out soon,” Liam said, glancing at his watch, “I only have ten minutes of lunch left and I really want to see how this ends.”

“He won't do it,” Harry said, “there's no way, he's liked her for so long, there's too much pressure.”

“Ye of little faith,” Louis scolded, fingers tightening on Harry's shoulder. When he realised he'd been touching the other man for quite some time, he dropped it. “Besides, surely the fact that he's liked her for so long is all the more reason for him to ask her out, right?”

Louis was getting strangely defensive.

“I mean, what if she met someone else and Niall never got the chance to ask her out? What then? Wouldn't that be tragic?”

Louis needed to tone it down but his brain couldn't seem to follow this logic. Liam and Harry stared at him.

“Wow, Tommo, didn't realise you were such a romantic,” Liam said, sarcastically.

“Yeah, Lou, touching stuff,” Harry added.

“Yeah, well, just practicing for the best man speech,” Louis shrugged, “since I'm the only one here with any faith in this budding office romance.”

They all bickered for a moment, until suddenly Liam elbowed Louis in the ribs and pointed over to where Niall and Lucy were standing. They all stopped and stared as the two chatted, smiling and laughing, and Harry whispered something about how he would give anything to be a fly on the wall beside the water cooler.

“Wow, she's laughing! This looks promising!” Liam said.

“Shit, he's touching her arm!” Louis gasped, “This is amazing.”

“I can't believe I'm seeing this with my own eyes,” Harry whispered.

After what felt like an eternity, Lucy walked over to the printer and grabbed a piece of paper from the tray, then proceeded to write something down on it.

“He's got her number! She's giving him her number!” Liam slapped Louis' shoulder, excitedly.

“Yes, I do have eyes, Liam,” Louis replied, sassily.

When Niall and Lucy parted ways, the blonde turned around to face the small audience ogling them. Liam, Harry and Louis stared at him with held breath, until finally Niall raised his arms above his head and started doing a ridiculous victory dance in the middle of the office. They all cheered, earning some confused looks from the other workers, until finally their fun was cut short as Simon passed by and raised his eyebrow at Niall,

“I'm not paying you to sing and dance, Horan, get back to work,” Simon said, then flicked his gaze over to the rest of them, “you too, back to work.”

With that, he swanned away, a flurry of business suit and expensive cologne.

Niall shuffled over to them, lowering his voice to a whisper,

“I feel like my heart's lodged in my foot somewhere,” he laughed, nervously, “I can't believe I just did that.”

“You did good, Niall,” Liam said, patting his shoulder.

“So what did she say?” Harry asked.

“I can't remember,” Niall said, “all I know is that I asked her to go to dinner with me tomorrow and she gave me her number. Christ, I- I can't believe it. I can't believe I waited this long.”

Louis felt a little twinge of something in his chest. Even though he was incredibly happy for Niall, a big part of him was also incredibly jealous.

“We need to celebrate,” Louis declared, pulling himself from his own self-pity, “drinks tonight, everyone? No excuses.”

“I'm in,” Liam beamed, “definitely need to celebrate this one.”

“Fuck, me too,” Niall grinned, then turned to Harry, “how about you, Haz?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. It was clear he wanted to say yes, but something was holding him back.

“Well, yeah, I do want to, but...I kind of promised Darren I'd go to his parents with him. They want to talk about some wedding stuff,” he shrugged, licking his lips.

“You can come for one drink though,” Louis said, suddenly, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, “there's more than enough time.”

“Lou,” Niall said, fixing Louis with a look, “he said he can't come.”

“No, it's fine,” Harry smiled, “yeah, I can definitely come for one drink. I'll just have to leave a little early, that's all.”

“Brilliant!” Louis said, ignoring Niall and Liam's glances.

“Are you sure, Harry?” Liam asked.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Harry said, looking at Niall, “can't miss celebrating Niall's big moment.”

“OK, only if you're sure,” Liam said, a little skeptically, but then he looked at his watch and gasped,

“Oh shit, my lunch ended five minutes ago. I have a meeting! See you guys at the front door at six? We can head somewhere from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Louis nodded.

Liam picked up his notepad and paperwork from Harry's desk and hurried away, weaving between desks and disappearing down a long corridor. Niall followed soon after, returning to his station across the room. Louis and Harry sat down at their own desks beside each other, logging onto their respective computers. After a few moments of typing away, Louis peered over at Harry's profile, clearing his throat.

“So, wedding stuff, eh?”

His voice sounded stilted even to his own ears. Still, he had to show some interest in Harry's engagement, otherwise it would be even more obvious that he had a problem with it. However, every time he tried to show even a little interest, it always came across as being painfully transparent. Luckily, Harry didn't seem to notice.

“Yeah, just a few things need sorted out.”

“Such as?” Louis asked.

“Just some fine details. They want my opinion on flowers or invitations or something,” Harry bit his lip and sat back on his chair, glancing at Louis, “I told them I didn't want anything too generic, you know? I want my wedding to be personal, not just a carbon copy of every other wedding that's ever happened.”

Louis pursed his lips and kept his eyes on his computer, not wanting Harry to read anything in his expression.

“What did they say to that?”

Harry shrugged, “They weren't too into it. Darren's parents are quite rich so I think they want it to be impressive.”

Louis' head snapped towards Harry. A little spark of irritation spiked through him. Before he could hold his tongue, Louis said,

“That bullshit, you should have exactly the type of wedding you want.”

Harry looked at him with wide eyes. Louis quickly added,

“I mean...surely Darren would agree.”

Harry sighed, “He does agree, but it's difficult to tell his parents 'no' sometimes.”

“What's so difficult? Just say 'I want my wedding to be like this, so thanks, but no thanks,'” Louis shrugged.

“Easy for you to say.”

Louis cocked his head, “It's easy for you to say too, you just have to say it. Stick up for yourself.”

“I'm not like you, Lou,” Harry said, practically hiding behind his hair as a piece of fringe fell in front of his eyes, “I don't like disappointing people.”

“Jeez Haz, say what you really feel!”

Harry's mouth dropped open, realising how unintentionally offensive his phrasing was,

“Not that you like disappointing people! You know that's not what I meant.”

Louis chuckled, “I know, keep your curls on.”

“I just meant that I'm not always good at expressing myself. You just say what you feel, no matter what anyone thinks. I wish I was like that, sometimes.”

“You can be, H,” Louis said softly, “you just need to have a little more confidence. Just tell Darren's parents that you don't want their vision for your wedding. It's that simple.”

“I can't,” Harry whined, rubbing his face with his palms, “it's too hard.”

Louis swivelled his chair around until he and Harry were facing each other, then clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward.

“It's not difficult, just practice on me,” Louis said.

“What?” Harry huffed out a laugh.

“Come on,” Louis opened his arms, offering himself up as a substitute, “you need to stand up for yourself. Tonight, when you go to meet Darren's parents, you're going to say to them...” Louis gestured for Harry to finish the sentence. Harry stared at him blankly. Louis sighed, “You're going to say to them that you want your wedding to be personal. You want to make the invitations or build the bouquets or _whatever._ Come on, tell me. Pretend I'm his mum.”

Louis crossed his leg and pretended to be a middle-aged woman, puckering his lips and blinking his eyes in a very over-the-top display of femininity. Harry smiled,

“You're ridiculous.”

Louis pressed a hand to his chest, then spoke in a falsetto voice, “Excuse me, Harold, that's no way to talk to me, Darren's mother.”

“Her name's Elaine,” Harry shook his head.

“Of course, that's what I said, that's no way to talk to me -Elaine- Darren's mother.”

Harry cackled, “That's not a bad impression.”

“Stop blathering, Harry,” Louis continued speaking in a womanly voice, “and tell me how you want the centre-pieces. I was thinking very generic, very expensive white orchids displayed in a very generic way. What do you think?”

Harry pressed a hand to his face, “Louis, this isn't helping.”

“ _Louis_?” Louis raised his eyebrows, “who is Louis? I am Elaine, Darren's mo-”

“Darren's mother, I know, I know,” Harry said, clearly exasperated but grinning nonetheless.

“Although this 'Louis' does sound charming and very handsome,” Louis wiggled his eyebrows.

“He is one of a kind, I'll say that much,” Harry said.

Louis felt his cheeks blush a little, but ignored it, keeping in character.

“Anyway, the centre pieces, don't you agree?”

“Well...” Harry cleared his throat, glancing up at Louis. Louis was slightly taken aback by how serious he looked all of a sudden. “Actually, Elaine, I don't agree. I don't want white orchids. I actually don't even like orchids. Also, those invitations you suggested are pretty terrible. I don't want to wear that really bland suit you suggested, either.”

Louis blinked several times, surprised at the level of venom in Harry's voice. He wasn't used to seeing the other man so visibly irritated.

“I know you don't like any of my ideas for the wedding, or my designs for the invitations, but I think I'd like it if maybe you just didn't give anymore suggestions from now on. In fact, Darren and I are going to arrange this wedding ourselves and if you don't like it, well...then maybe you just shouldn't come at all.”

Harry let his eyes fall to the ground and Louis' lips parted in shock. He really didn't know what to say. It felt like he had just been given a little glimpse inside the cogs of Harry's mind and he felt overwhelmed by the level of trust he was being gifted with. After a moment, Louis steadily replied,

“I didn't know you felt that way, Harry.”

Harry nodded, lips pursed, “Well, I do.”

Silence.

“If that's what you want,” Louis said, “then you should have it. You should have everything you want.”

Harry looked up at Louis, green eyes like emeralds under a sheet of glass. After a moment, he replied,

“Thank you...Elaine.”

Louis cleared his throat, suddenly remembering he was supposed to be in character,

“Yes, well, I still think the orchids would be lovely, but you know best. It's your wedding, Harold, I'm just the cheque book.”

Harry gasped, a delighted laugh breaking through his lips, “Louis!”

“What?” Louis smirked, turning back to his computer.

“You make me sound like a gold digger!”

“Well, you said they were rich,” Louis smirked. Harry's brow puckered, as though genuinely wondering if people thought he might be a gold-digger. Louis couldn't help but laugh, “Harry, relax, anyone with a brain can see you're not a gold digger.”

Harry's brow soothed a little, “I know that.”

They both turned back to their computers, working for a few more minutes, but something was still bothering Louis. After a moment, he turned to Harry and said,

“Hey Haz?”

Harry glanced up, “Yeah?”

“I bet your designs for the invitations were beautiful.”

Harry's face broke out into a huge grin.

Louis turned back to his computer, cheeks burning red.

-*-

Louis downed the last gulp of beer from his glass and wiped the back of his hand across his lips.

“Another,” he said, grinning drunkenly at the bar man.

“Don't you think you've had enough, Lou?” Liam chuckled, nursing a whiskey in his hand.

“Never enough,” Louis insisted, waving his glass in the air, “another!”

The bar man took Louis' empty glass and replaced it with a tumbler of amber liquid. Louis immediately took a drink and released a happy, satisfied sigh. He turned to Liam with sleepy eyes,

“That's really good stuff.”

“You are well and truly fucked, you know that?” Liam said.

“I do.”

At that moment, Niall approached them, slapping his hand on Louis' shoulder.

“How you hanging there, buddy? Drowning your sorrows now that Harry's gone?”

They were two hours into Niall's celebratory drinks night and Harry had left an hour ago. Louis had immediately started drinking to excess the moment he'd left.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Louis slurred, blinking one eye at a time, “hey, do you guys want to blow this place and go to a club?”

“Ah, I don't know, Lou,” Liam said, glancing at his watch, “I told Sophia I'd be home early.”

“Come _on_ ,” Louis argued, turning to Niall, “you'll come, Ni, won't you?”

“Sure, why not,” Niall shrugged, up for anything.

“See,” Louis hooked an arm around Niall's shoulder and pointed at him, “Niall's coming. You want to miss out on all the fun?”

Liam had never fully recovered from a childhood of having very few friends, so emotional blackmail worked very well on him.

“Ugh, fine,” Liam sighed, “but not too late, yeah?”

“Of course not,” Louis grinned.

Later that night, they found themselves packed into a sweaty club, strobe lights flickering down as music thumped through the speakers. Louis' body felt charged with alcohol, blood red-hot, and he'd been making eyes across the dance floor with the same redhead for about fifteen minutes. As he danced, he heard Niall shout in his ear,

“I'm going to get another drink. Want anything?”

Louis licked his lips and patted Niall's arm, “Yeah. That guy.”

With that, Louis crossed the dance floor and walked right up to the redhead, faces far too close for someone whose name he didn't even know.

“Hi,” Louis breathed, pressing his body close, “didn't you know it's rude to stare?”

“Could say the same thing to you,” Red replied, smirking, “my name's Chris.”

“Louis.”

“Nice. You with the blonde?”

Louis looked over his shoulder at Niall, who was staring at him, shaking his head. It was the same look he shot across the office when Louis was flirting with Harry too much. Even in Louis' drunken state, he acknowledged the fact that what he was doing must've been painfully obvious to Niall. Still, sometimes he needed to drown his sorrows in more ways than one.

“No, he's just a friend.”

“He looks annoyed for a friend,” Chris said.

Louis pressed his lips to Chris' to shut him up. Luckily, Chris was smart enough to take the hint.

They made out for a long time after that. Louis really didn't pay attention to how long. They kissed on the leather bar stools, up against the DJ booth, on the staircase and finally ended up in bathroom stall. As Chris sucked on Louis' neck, Louis was vaguely aware of a vibration in his pocket. It was probably Niall wondering where he was, or Liam wanting to go home. Chris broke away from Louis' neck, coming up for air,

“Is that your phone?” He asked, breaths laboured.

“Yes,” Louis rolled his eyes, “just ignore it.”

“I can't, it's too distracting,” Chris said.

“You want to tell them I'm busy, then?” Louis raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone.

“Sure, why not.”

Chris took the phone from Louis' hand, accepting the challenge. Louis couldn't help but laugh as Chris pressed his lips back to Louis' throat.

“Hello?” Chris' deep voice hummed into the speaker.

Louis heard a mumbling over the line. Chris replied,

“Louis is a little busy at the moment,” he laughed, “can I take a message?”

Louis chuckled. God, Niall was going to kill him on Monday.

“Harry, huh?” Chris hummed.

Louis' eyes snapped open and he stopped moving.

“I told you Louis is busy,” Chris repeated, glancing up into Louis' eyes with a wicked smile, “I plan to keep him busy for quite some time.”

Louis' whole body tensed as he looked at Chris. Chris, who was talking to Harry on the phone. Fuck, _Harry_. The drunken fog immediately cleared from Louis' mind and he snatched his phone back, opening the door of the cubicle and stepping out. He could hear Chris' protests behind him.

“Harry?” Louis said, “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it's me,” Louis couldn't exactly read the tone of his voice. “having a good time?”

He sounded off. It was probably just Louis' imagination.

“Uh yeah...sorry about that, I was just-”

“It's fine,” Harry cut him off, “seriously, you don't have to explain.”

“OK.” Louis paused, walking out of the bathroom and searching around for a quiet spot in the noisy club. He eventually found a fire exit that lead into the smoking area. He listened to Harry's deep breaths as he stood with his arm pressed to the cold, brick wall of the building, “so...why were you calling?”

“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat, “yeah, I was actually just calling to say thank you. I, um, I told Elaine that I wanted my wedding to be personal and it was largely thanks to you, so...thanks.”

Louis closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew he had no reason to feel guilty and yet the cold feeling in his gut felt a lot like betrayal.

“Oh,” he said, “that's amazing, Harry. I'm so glad. You're welcome.”

“Who was that?”

Louis blinked, surprised by the change of subject.

“Who?”

“That guy who was talking to me on your phone.”

“I thought you didn't want to know?” Louis replied, carefully.

It felt like they were treading a line. A tightrope. Louis wasn't quite sure where the end was.

A moment passed, then Louis heard Harry sigh,

“I'm sorry,” he said, “I've just had a bad night. Darren is a bit annoyed at me for snapping at his mum.”

“Oh...sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“It is a bit,” Louis argued, “I was the one who suggested standing up to her.”

Harry laughed. It was the sweetest sound. “It was a good suggestion.”

Louis smiled.

“Anyway, I should probably go to bed,” Harry said, then quietly added “it's been a long day. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Louis had no time to reply before Harry hung up the phone. He wanted to scream. If there was any chance of him enjoying the rest of his night, it was well and truly destroyed.

He wandered around the club for ten minutes before eventually finding Niall and Liam sitting at the bar, looking like two tired old men who were completely over the clubbing scene.

“I want to go home,” Liam pouted, bags under his eyes.

“Me too,” Niall added, “I'm too old for this shit.”

“You're twenty-five,” Louis argued, ignoring the ache in his own bones, “anyway, point taken, let's get out of here.”

They all stumbled into a black taxi waiting outside and lay across each other in the back seat. Louis ended up paying the entire fare as retribution for dragging them all out against their will. He was too drunk to care.

When he finally arrived home, the room spun as he padded into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He downed the contents and filled it again, then headed towards his room, making a valiant attempt of changing into his pyjamas before collapsing onto the bed. The drunken fog was taking over his entire brain and ridiculous ideas were making their way into his head. He picked up his phone and winced at the bright screen, scrolling through his contacts to find Harry's name. He pulled up a new message and began typing.

When he finished, he hit send, then passed out on his pillow.

-*-

Louis woke up to a headache and a message from Harry.

_Think I might need a translator to transcribe your text._

Louis' brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, until he remembered the scrambled attempt he'd made to message Harry the night before. He groaned, dreading the thought of what he might have written. Much to his relief, it was indecipherable. Drunken Louis was dangerous. He typed out a quick response.

_Sorry, too many celebratory drinks!_

Harry replied instantly,

_What were you even trying to write??_

Louis didn't fully remember, but he knew it was probably some sort of attempt to tell Harry about his true feelings. He decided to lie.

_Probably just congratulating you again on standing up to Darren's mother._

Harry replied with a simple smiley face.

Louis needed water.

He pulled himself from his bed and trudged into the kitchen, pouring himself a large glass. His head felt like it was being pummelled from the inside. Memories of the night before tortured him, reminding him of Harry phoning while he was making out with that red-headed guy whose name he couldn't even remember in the cold light of day. Louis spent the entire Saturday lounging around in his pyjamas watching television, replying to the odd text from Niall asking how he was doing.

 _Terrible,_ Louis replied, _I haven't showered or changed all day. I'm a mess. Want to come around and take care of me?_

After ten minutes, Niall replied,

_Can't. I have a date, remember? Might come around for a pep talk though. I'm so fucking nervous!!_

Twenty minutes later, Niall was sitting beside Louis on the sofa, white as a sheet. The blue of his check shirt looked stark in comparison to his pale skin.

“You're going to be fine,” Louis said, “honestly. She must like you since she said yes.”

“Not always the case, Tommo,” Niall argued, “remember when Liam asked out Linda from accounts? She said yes and a week later told him it was because she felt sorry for him.”

Louis winced. He remembered. It had been a very traumatic week for Liam.

“Linda was a bitch,” Louis replied, simply, then changed the subject, “besides, I'm sure that's not going to happen with Lucy. You guys are adorable.”

“You think?” Niall asked, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

“Sure!” Louis said, as though it were a completely obvious fact, “I mean, she's always bringing you cups of tea and telling you you look nice. It's a no-brainer, she likes you.”

“Yeah,” Niall said, tapping his fists on his knees, psyching himself up, “you're right, yeah. It's obvious. OK, you're right. I feel better.”

“Good,” Louis smiled, satisfied, “so just go out there and be yourself.”

“OK, I will,” Niall relaxed back into the sofa and rubbed his palms on his jeans, “thanks, Lou.”

“No problem, Nialler.”

They watched television for a few moments, before Niall broke the silence.

“So...” Niall said. Louis glanced at him. “Harry messaged me this morning.”

Louis' heart paused for a beat, then calmly continued.

“Hm?” Louis returned his gaze to the television, “And?”

Niall started sniggering, “He told me he called you at an awkward moment last night.”

Louis picked up the remote, muted the television and turned to Niall.

“Can a man not make out with another man in the privacy of a club toilet and _not_ have the whole world know about it?”

“Not with our friends,” Niall replied, “anyway, he thought it was funny! No need to freak.”

Funny. Huh. Is that what he'd told Niall?

“Funny, hm? That's not how I remember it.”

Niall fixed Louis with a pointed look, “What's that supposed to mean?”

“All I'm saying is he definitely didn't find it funny last night.”

Niall laughed, “Oh right, so he was jealous?”

“Seemed that way.”

Louis was used to Niall thinking that Louis read too much into Harry's behaviour, but Louis had definitely sensed annoyance. Hadn't he? He had been incredibly drunk, so it was hard to know for sure. Louis cursed himself for undermining his own credibility.

“Well, he didn't seem annoyed this morning, so I wouldn't read too much into it,” Niall glanced at Louis, “I mean it, don't read too much into it.”

Louis bit his lip. Niall continued,

“Anyway, I've been thinking about what we should do for his stag party. Won't be long now!”

Since Harry hadn't officially nominated anyone as his best man, Niall had volunteered himself as the official organiser of Harry's Stag. Louis would've offered himself if he wasn't so violently opposed to the entire thing. The fact that they were actually talking about this made Louis painfully aware of the fact that it was only a few months until Harry's wedding. He hid his face behind a pillow,

“I'm too hungover for this.”

Niall ignored him, “I was thinking about dinner at that pizza place he likes, then hit a few bars, catch a limo to a casino and then finish it off with a strip club. Thoughts?”

Louis pulled the pillow from his face. The thought of Harry marrying someone else was bad enough, nevermind throwing him to a sea of naked men. Still, Louis couldn't be bothered arguing,

“Sounds sick.”

“I was also thinking about paint-balling, though,” Niall said, conflicted, “do you think he'd like that better?”

Louis thought for a moment, then sighed,

“Yeah, swap the casino for paint-ball. He'd like that.”

Niall nodded, “Right.”

“Also,” Louis added, “I think he'd prefer that Thai place instead of pizza.”

Niall stared at Louis for a long moment, then said,

“It really should be you planning this, you know?”

Louis didn't bother looking at Niall as he said, “I would if it didn't hurt so damn much.”

Niall smiled sadly, then dropped the subject.

-*-

On Monday morning, Louis was standing by the water cooler talking to Niall and Liam. Niall was taking them through a blow-by-blow of his date with Lucy, which had apparently started off awkwardly but ended with a kiss, so it wasn't all bad.

“She told me she's liked me for months!” Niall said, stars in his eyes, “Can you believe that?”

“Not at all,” Louis quipped, earning him a laugh from Liam and a playful smack on the arm from Niall.

“Did you ask her out again?” Liam asked, face growing serious, “You need to ask her out on a second date or she'll think you're not interested.”

“Where did you read that? Cosmo?” Louis smirked.

“Sophia told me, actually,” Liam said, primly, “and I think it's true. You can't keep her hanging. Women don't like games.”

Niall laughed, “She asked me out, actually. We're going rock climbing after work on Wednesday.”

“Rock climbing? How outdoors-y,” Louis raised his eyebrows, “I'm impressed.”

“She's one hell-of-a-woman,” Niall agreed.

At that moment their conversation was interrupted by a very red-faced, flustered-looking Harry. There was a piece of yellow crepe paper stuck to his head. Louis pointed to it, silently. Harry furrowed his brow,

“What?” He asked.

“You have paper on your head,” Niall answered, simply.

Harry tentatively placed his hand on his forehead and picked off the yellow culprit. He groaned and rolled his eyes,

“That explains the looks.”

Liam giggled, “Why did you have crepe paper on your head?”

“It doesn't matter,” Harry mumbled, clearly in a bad mood, “anyway, how was your date, Niall?”

“Great,” Niall said, then repeated the same blow-by-blow account that he'd already given Louis and Liam.

Harry smiled, “Good for you. I'm glad it went well.”

There was a sadness to Harry's features that Louis sensed almost immediately. He desperately wanted to ask what was wrong, but knew he'd need to wait until they were alone before he could do so. Luckily that moment came ten minutes later, when the clock struck nine and they both retreated to their desks.

“So, what's up?” Louis said, turning to face Harry, “I know something is wrong. You're never grumpy.”

“I am sometimes,” Harry huffed, sweeping his hand back through his hair.

That was true, but normally Harry's anger was due to something inane, like not having breakfast or someone being too loud. This seemed more serious.

“Come on, you can tell me,” Louis said, gently, “I want to help.”

Harry sighed, but didn't look at Louis. Finally, he replied,

“I just had a bit of a panic last night, that's all,” he rested his chin on his fist, “I realised that there's so much work to do and the wedding is only a few months away. I started making invitations last night at eleven o'clock, then fell asleep at the table while working on them. Hence, the crepe paper on my head.”

Louis smiled, endeared despite Harry's clear frustration. Still, he couldn't help but wonder...

“Didn't Darren help you?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Louis had clearly touched a nerve. Finally, Harry said,

“We haven't talked much. He's still annoyed I stood up to his mother.”

“Oh,” Louis tried not to seem too pleased, “that's too bad.”

“I just wish he didn't care so much about what his parents thought,” Harry mumbled, more to himself than to Louis.

Louis wasn't really sure what to say, so he said nothing. Besides, he was too biased to give any real advice on the situation. As far as he was concerned, Harry was right and everyone else could just go to Hell. However, Louis didn't really have time to respond anyway, because at that moment Simon approached Harry and Louis' desks, steady gaze alternating between them both.

“Harry. Louis,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of his office, “can I see you both for a moment?”

Harry and Louis stared after Simon as he walked away into his dark, cavernous office. They turned to face each other,

“Have we done something wrong?” Harry asked.

They both slowly stood up.

“You don't think this is about that meme Nick created about him, do you?” Louis asked, “Because he made the thing, I just said it would be funny.”

Harry frowned, “I don't think so.”

“Fuck, I hope not.”

As they slowly stepped into Simon's office, he looked up at them and gestured towards two chairs, which were placed in front of his desk. They both took a seat, hesitantly, then waited for Simon to speak. After a long moment, he placed his hand to his stubbled chin and said,

“I suppose you're both wondering why I've called you in here.”

Harry cleared his throat, “It had crossed our minds, yes.”

“Well, I'm about to make you both a very promising offer,” Simon smiled and stood, “you see, we have currently attained a very prominent client and they have requested a team of _Visionary Advertising_ 's best and brightest to come up with a new campaign for their latest product,” he turned towards them, “I've decided to give you both the opportunity to prove yourselves.”

Louis' mouth dropped open. Beside him, he knew Harry's had too. Simon laughed,

“Do you want to know who the client is?”

Louis and Harry nodded.

“Toyota.”

Louis' jaw hit the floor, “ _Toyota_?”

“Yes, Louis,” Simon said, “they want us to carry out the advertising for their new range and I want you two to show them exactly why they need _Visionary_ to work on this campaign. It needs to be young, fun and energetic. Something zesty. I thought you two would be perfect for the job. You've both done some great work for this company in the time you've been here and I thought I'd give you both a moment to show us all what you're made of.”

Louis' whole body hummed with excitement. This was exactly what he'd been hoping for when he'd decided to get into advertising. A client like Toyota would really set his career on fire. He could practically taste the acclaim.

“Thank you so much,” Louis stood and walked over to Simon, shaking his hand, “We won't let you down. Thank you.”

“All right, all right, settle down,” Simon said, releasing Louis' hand, “I know you're both probably very excited, but I'm warning you, if you step a foot out of line then both your asses are out of here. Am I clear?”

“Absolutely,” Harry nodded.

“Crystal,” Louis agreed.

“Good,” Simon nodded, “I'll contact you both when I have more details. In the meantime, congratulations. I'm sure you'll both do an excellent job.”

When Harry and Louis left Simon's office, they turned to each other and grinned,

“I can't believe it,” Louis said, eyes crinkling with excitement, “I can't believe we both get to do this.”

“We really are the dream team,” Harry joked, “even the boss thinks so.”

Louis' face melted, “Yeah, you're right.”

For the rest of the day, Louis brainstormed ideas about the campaign, while Harry interjected with some of his own, scribbling down scant notes on pieces of paper. In truth, Louis and Harry really were the perfect team. They'd worked together on projects before and Louis' wild, uncontrollable ideas were perfectly honed by Harry's calm, organised mind. Together, they effectively blew their competition out of the water every time. True, this was unarguably the biggest project they'd ever worked on, but Louis was sure they could do it.

It also meant they'd have to spend a lot more time together outside of work.

“You can come over to mine once we figure out more details about the project and we can work on it,” Harry suggested, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Louis stopped talking for a moment, then said, “You sure Darren won't mind?”

“Why would he?”

Louis paused, then shrugged, “Just might be annoying having us brainstorming. You could come to my place, that way we won't be in anyone's way.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah. Sure. OK.”

Louis frowned. He didn't know why Harry was being so reluctant, but he didn't think about it for too long because he was distracted by a new idea.

-*-

Later that night, while Louis was in his apartment making dinner, he decided to dip his toe back into the world of dating.

He'd never really enjoyed using Tinder, preferring to meet suitors in real life as opposed to online, but Niall's comment about meeting someone new had wormed its way into Louis' brain. Although Louis didn't really think it was possible for him to meet someone better than Harry, he needed to at least try, for the sake of his own sanity. Because, as much as he didn't like to admit it, Harry belonged to someone else and that wasn't going to change any time soon. Louis couldn't wait around forever hoping it would.

He'd been talking to one guy for a few hours. Tom was decent looking, with dark, brown hair and kind eyes. His photos were black and white, slightly poser-y and Louis couldn't help but mercilessly tease him about them. Luckily, the guy had a good sense of humour about it, which just made Louis like him more. They flirted for a while and he made Louis laugh a few times, which wasn't always easy to do. When Louis went to bed, he felt proud of himself. He told Tom he'd text him in the morning and he had full intentions of doing so. Yes, this was good. Louis felt good.

At least, he felt good until he got a Snapchat from Harry and all at once a mass of butterflies exploded in his chest. The feeling was so overwhelming in comparison to the tiny zips of exhilaration he got from speaking to Tom that Louis almost felt breathless with it. He opened up the message and his eyes were immediately assaulted by a picture of Harry in a peach blouse with a black neck tie. The caption read: _Thoughts?_

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat and took a picture of himself doing a thumbs up, along with the caption: _Looking fabulous. What's the occasion?_

A Whatsapp message appeared on Louis' screen. He clicked it open.

_It's Mum's birthday tomorrow. Gemma and I are taking her out. I'm just trying on the shirt for size, it arrived today._

Louis smiled.

_Tell Mama Twist I said Happy Birthday :)_

Harry.

_I will. She loves you more than she loves me, anyway._

Louis chuckled, then replied,

_That's not your fault. I'm naturally more lovable than most other sons :)_

Harry replied instantly,

_Maybe you're just more lovable than most people in general?_

Louis' heart thudded. It was unusual for Harry to say something so...bold. Louis waited for Harry to break the tension with a joke, but nothing came. When he thought his heart was going to race out of his chest, Louis decided to break the tension himself by changing the subject to something less...heated.

_Where are you taking her for dinner?_

Minutes passed before Harry responded. When he did, it was a simple:

_Antonio's._

The rest of their conversation passed with no more ambiguous comments and when Louis said goodbye, he wished he'd tested the boundaries of their flirtation a little bit more. Louis was so sick of this strange purgatory they seemed to be perpetually stuck in. Still, part of him was scared to test the boundaries, because testing the boundaries meant finding out an answer and Louis wasn't sure if he was ready for Harry to reject him in a soul-crushing and devastating manner. Harry may flirt with Louis from time to time, but Louis was under no illusions about how things would end between them if he actually brought his own feelings to light. It was clear that Harry loved Darren very much, so much he was going to marry the guy and a million semi-flirty texts with Louis wouldn't change that.

The more Louis dwelt on it, the more he began to think that maybe Niall was right. Maybe he did need to take a step back from Harry.

-*-

Unfortunately, taking a step back from Harry wasn't exactly an easy thing to do, especially when they started work on the Toyota project. Every day there was something that kept drawing them back together, whether it be a meeting in Simon's office, brainstorming ideas over lunch or working late into the evenings. In the end, Louis' attempts to put some distance between them actually ended up with them growing closer than ever.

The frustration this caused Louis persuaded him to kick his dating game up a notch.

About two weeks into their online flirtation, Louis decided to arrange a date with Tom. They agreed to meet at _The Elk's Head_ after work and ended up spending the entire evening chatting and laughing and getting to know each other. Tom was a sweet guy, attractive, not exactly Louis' type but close enough for him to earn another date. After two more equally pleasant dates, Louis decided to tell the guys in work about his new love interest.

“So, what does Tom do?” Niall asked.

They were all standing in the kitchen during break, pouring themselves cups of tea while munching on some of the banana bread that Eleanor had kindly brought in to share with everyone. Louis had tried to bring it up as casually as possible, without drawing too much attention to the issue, but Liam and Niall had jumped on the topic like Winnie the Pooh to a honey pot.

“He's an electrician,” Louis said, stirring his spoon around in his cup.

“That's handy,” Niall said, smirking, “considering you're pretty useless when it comes to work around the house.”

Louis stared at Niall, “I'll have you know that the spice rack I made is still standing proudly.”

“Oh yeah? What about the sound system you installed? Working well?”

Louis returned his gaze to his cup, “No comment.”

Liam and Niall chuckled among themselves.

“Seriously though, I'm glad you're putting yourself out there,” Liam said, “I know the whole thing with...you know...well, I know you haven't wanted to date for a bit so I'm glad you're making an effort.”

Louis watched Liam dig himself a hole with morbid curiosity, then breathed out a sigh. It felt like everyone was aware of just how hopeless things were with Harry.

“Yeah, well, have to move on sometime.”

Liam smiled at him with pity in his soft, brown eyes. Louis wanted to hit him on the nose with the warm end of his spoon.

“So, when do we get to meet this guy?” Niall asked, cutting himself some more banana bread.

“Oh, well I-”

“Meet who?”

Harry was standing beside their little trio, peering in at them curiously. Before Louis could answer, Liam replied,

“Louis' got a new love squeeze,” he nudged Louis with his elbow, “don't you, Lou?”

Louis raised his eyes to meet Harry's. The smile remained fixed to Harry's face, unchanging, like the corners of his lips were being held up by two lollipop sticks. Then, in an instant, his expression softened and he walked around and started pouring himself a cup of tea, the picture of composed.

“Oh?” Harry turned to Louis with genuine interest.

“Yeah. I met him on Tinder,” Louis said, offering the information even though Harry hadn't asked. He felt very uncomfortable.

“What's his name?” Harry asked, popping a teabag into a white cup and boiling the kettle.

“Tom,” Louis replied, tracking Harry's movements with his eyes, searching for even the slightest hint of jealousy or discontentment. He found nothing.

“That's a nice name,” Harry turned to Louis and smiled, softly, “do you like him?”

Louis thought about his answer for a moment, pressing his lips to the rim of his cup and sipping the hot liquid. Niall and Liam were discussing last night's episode of Top Gear, completely ignoring Harry and Louis. Louis wished they would join the conversation again so the tension could be diffused between more people.

“We've only been on a few dates,” Louis said, carefully, “I don't really know him.”

“Well, I knew I liked Darren on our very first date,” Harry said, pouring a splash of milk into his cup, eyes fixed on the spoon as he stirred, “I think when you like someone you just know it, no matter how long you've been seeing each other.”

Louis pursed his lips. He really didn't want to hear about Harry's instant attraction to Darren and if he didn't know any better, he'd swear Harry was doing it on purpose.

“I think...” Louis paused, then continued, “I think I do like him.”

Harry nodded, pulling the spoon from his cup and grasping the warm ceramic in his hands. He turned towards Louis, gaze steady and said,

“I'm happy for you.”

They held eye contact for a few moments, before Niall suddenly interrupted their conversation to ask,

“You guys want to come to mine tonight for a Marvel marathon? Lucy and I went to see Captain America yesterday and it's put me in the mood.”

Louis was incredibly relieved for the change of subject.

“Sounds good,” he said, “count me in.”

“Me too,” Harry agreed.

Later that night, they all gathered around Niall's sofa to watch the first in a binge of Marvel classics. They started with _Spiderman_ , then followed it up with _X-men_ and _The Incredible Hulk_. When they eventually grew tired of watching movies, they looked up old episodes of the _Superman_ cartoons on Youtube and began making their way through those. By the time it reached midnight, they were all sprawled over Niall's living room, full of Chinese food and incredibly intoxicated. Liam was sitting on the floor, one knee pulled to his chest as he rested his head on his forearms. Niall was on the reclining armchair, feet resting on a glass coffee table as he nursed a beer on his stomach. Louis and Harry were both lying on opposite ends of the red couch, hugging pillows to their chests, feet practically in each other's faces.

“Hey guys,” Liam said, voice slightly slurred, “who do you think would win in a fight: Batman or Superman?”

Varying answers came back in response. Harry and Louis said Superman would win, whereas Niall insisted the answer was Batman. Liam remained neutral on the topic, since he'd initiated the debate, but he seemed to back up Niall's arguments suspiciously more than Harry and Louis'.

“Superman can _fly_ though, or have you conveniently forgotten that?” Harry said.

“Yeah, but if Batman gets his hands on some kryptonite, Superman is done for. Batman has no exploitable weaknesses,” Niall said, earning a sage nod from Liam.

“Superman is _Superman,_ though! How is this even a question?” Louis said, “Besides, if Batman _somehow_ managed to get his hands on kryptonite, it's still no guarantee he would win. It only makes Superman weaker, it doesn't mean he's defeated!”

“Well said,” Harry nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Psh,” Niall rolled his eyes and turned back to the screen, “whatever.”

Harry and Louis exchanged smug, victorious glances to each other from across the sofa.

As they returned to watching the cartoon _Superman_ zip from building to building, Louis felt the light sensation of fingertips on his ankle. The touch was light and soft, sending chills all the way up his legs and into his heart. He stilled for a moment, eyes darting down to look at Harry. He couldn't really see the other man in the dark light of room, but every so often the glow of the television would light up his face and Louis could clearly see Harry's fingers absently caressing the skin of his ankle. Harry seemed to be doing it thoughtlessly, like a child with a comfort blanket, but it made Louis' mouth feel dry.

Then, for one heart-stopping moment, Harry raised his eyes to Louis'.

When their gazes met, Harry's hand stilled on Louis' ankle, warm and gentle. Louis' lips parted. Three heartbeats passed before Harry returned his gaze to the television, continuing to trace patterns on Louis' skin with his fingertips. The act was purposeful, possessive, as though silently staking some claim on Louis' body. In a moment of perfect clarity, it became apparent to Louis that Harry knew exactly what he was doing and the idea of it sent his heart racing in his throat. After a few seconds of silent debate, Louis slowly pushed his ankle against Harry's hand, deepening the touch. He wondered if Harry could feel it shaking him all the way down to his ankles.

For the rest of the night, Louis kept his eyes on the television.

-*-

From the moment Louis had told Harry about Tom, he'd noticed a marked change in Harry's behaviour towards him. Harry had always been affectionate, not just to Louis but to everyone, but over the last few weeks Louis had noticed Harry's behaviour evolving into something a little more...possessive.

Louis couldn't exactly put his finger on it, but it was there in the way Harry's hand rested on Louis' shoulder, or the way their eyes locked at random moments. The electricity that Louis had always felt fizzing in the undercurrent of their friendship had become harder and harder to brush off as wishful thinking.

One night after work, Louis invited Harry over to work on the Toyota campaign. Time had slowly crept up on them and now there was only two weeks left until their deadline, where they would have to present their ideas in a meeting with Simon and two representatives from the company. If they liked Harry and Louis' ideas, the wheels would be put into motion to begin work on the campaign. If not, Simon would probably mount their heads on his wall.

Unfortunately, they seemed to have hit a creative roadblock.

As they sat in Louis' apartment, staring at blank pages that they'd failed to write a single idea on, they were both beginning to feel a little tense. Louis looked up at Harry from his place on the floor, whilst Harry sat with his head in his hands on the sofa. After a moment of dull gazes, Louis finally mumbled,

“Drink?”

“God yes,” Harry sighed.

Louis pulled himself from the crème carpet and padded into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of white Sauvignon Blanc and pouring two large glasses. An hour and three bottles later, they were both giggling on the sofa, heads thrown back and faces red with laughter.

“You seriously did that?” Harry asked, eyes wide.

Louis was telling Harry about his gap year in Rome after high school. One night, while incredibly drunk, he and his best friend Stan had decided it would be a good idea to pour two litres of bubble bath into an ornate fountain and skinny-dip in it.

“I did,” Louis chuckled, “by far the stupidest thing I've ever done.”

“Sounds amazing,” Harry grinned, resting his arm on the back of the sofa, “were you not arrested for public indecency?”

“Me being naked is a public _service_ , Harold,” Louis said, “also, we were too fast. They never stood a chance.”

Harry's eyes sparkled as he stared at Louis,

“You're crazy, you know that?”

Louis exhaled a soft breath at the look on Harry's face. God, he was crazy.

“What about you?” Louis asked, reaching over to take a sip from his glass of wine, “What's the wildest thing you've ever done?”

Harry thought for a moment, then replied,

“I guess it would be when I was nineteen and bought a one-way ticket to Thailand without any clue what I planned to do once I got there.”

Louis paused, “I didn't know you went to Thailand.”

Harry smiled, “I don't talk about it much. My dad had just left home when I booked the ticket and everything was just...anyway, it was great. I really, kind of -this sounds so cheesy- but I really found myself while I was there, you know?”

Louis nodded, a soft smile gracing his features. A rush of affection overwhelmed him to the point of suffocation.

At that moment, Louis' phone vibrated. It was Tom.

“Who is it?” Harry asked, eyes steady on Louis as he sipped his wine.

“Tom,” Louis said, flicking his gaze to Harry, “just wants to know if I'm free tonight.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “sorry.”

“What for?”

“Just, keeping you busy,” Harry replied, lifting the glass in his hand, “especially since we're not exactly doing much work.”

“We're brainstorming,” Louis said, “everyone needs a glass of wine while brainstorming. It opens the mind. Gets all the creative juices flowing.”

Harry laughed, “Of course, how silly of me.”

“Very silly. Anyway, it won't kill him to not see me for one night.”

“Do you guys see each other a lot?” Harry asked, carefully.

“Sometimes,” Louis replied, “weekends, mainly.”

“He must like you.”

It was a simple statement, yet it felt loaded to Louis' ears.

“Yeah, I guess he must.”

“You must like him too...” Harry continued, tentatively, as though carefully treading unknown waters, “or you seem to, at least.”

“Yes.” A fine sweat formed on Louis' brow.

“Do you think you guys are going to have 'The Talk' soon?”

Louis scoffed, “'The Talk'. Haz, you make it sound like fucking _Dawson's Creek_ or something.”

Harry laughed, embarrassed. “You know what I mean.”

“I don't know,” Louis shrugged, “I hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. Things are fine the way they are. I don't need to have 'The Talk'.” Harry pursed his lips. Louis frowned. “Why do you ask, exactly?”

“Well...it's just, you've never really been in a relationship in all the time I've known you,” Harry said.

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn't like where this conversation was going. “And?”

“I guess I was just wondering if maybe...” Harry glanced up. Louis folded his arms, waiting patiently for an answer. Harry sighed. “Do you have a problem with commitment, or something?”

Louis stared at Harry for a long moment. He felt like laughing, almost. Harry thought Louis was afraid of _commitment_? The thought was truly hysterical. Louis spent his days pining over Harry, enslaved by his own feelings and Harry thought he was _afraid of commitment_? God, how wrong he was.

However, he couldn't exactly say that, so he simply responded, “Hm...maybe.”

“I thought so.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Then, Louis said,

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“How long did it take before you and Darren had 'The Talk'?”

Harry seemed surprised by question. He raised his eyebrows, thought for a moment, then replied,

“I think it was about two weeks after we started seeing each other.”

Louis' eyes widened, “ _Two weeks_?”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed, “a bit quick, I know, but I don't know...it felt right, at the time.”

“How did you meet?”

This was the first time Louis had talked to Harry about his relationship with Darren for any significant period of time. He'd always avoided it before because the topic seemed too painful, but at this moment he felt compelled to ask. He wanted to know everything.

“We met a few months after I came back from Thailand, actually,” Harry said, eyes glazed, as though thinking back to those days, “I was working part-time in this little health food shop and Darren used to come in everyday and buy raw cashew nuts. I was kind of bored and thought he was hot, so I used to mess around with him by moving the stand every day so they were never in the same place. It was hilarious. He used to get so pissed off at me.”

Louis laughed. “Jesus, that actually worked? Only you, Styles.”

Harry blushed at the unexpected compliment, then continued,

“Anyway, one day he came in and just lost it. He demanded to know why I always moved the stand. I told him I thought he was hot when he's flustered,” Harry shrugged, “it all kind of happened from there, really. He asked me out. I said yes. Now, here we are.”

Harry made it all sound so simple. So easy. He seemed so sure of Darren that Louis couldn't help but feel pained by it all.

“How did you know Darren was the one for you?” Louis asked. Harry's face dropped. “How can you be so sure?”

“I don't know,” Harry shrugged, shaking his head, brow puckering, “we've been together for so long.”

“Oh.”

Louis thought for a moment that that was the end of the conversation, but when he attempted to stand up, Harry reached out a hand and stilled him. He slowly sat back down.

“When I met Darren, I was in a really shit place. My parents were separated, I'd just come back from the trip of a lifetime, I'd also been rejected from the university I wanted to go to, which _sucked_ , by the way. I was just...done.” Harry sighed, like it was physically exhausting him to say this. “I felt like nothing in my life was certain. Then, Darren came along and he was just so...reliable. He was always there for me, like a rock, I never questioned him for one moment. Before Darren, I always used to date really wild guys. Guys who couldn't commit or settle down and it wasn't good for me. Darren wasn't like that, he was stable. I really needed that, you know? I need that.”

Louis nodded. Harry sat back in his seat, satisfied that he'd answered the question.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Louis cleared his throat and stood up, crossing the room to turn on his new sound system (that he most definitely set up himself and did not call Liam around to fix).

“It's too quiet in here,” Louis said, switching it on, hoping that the last thing he was listening to wasn't something embarrassing, “we need some tunes. That'll help us with our brainstorming. Creative genius will inspire creative genius.”

“Is that how it works, then?”

“It is.”

Harry laughed and folded his legs on the sofa and observed Louis. Louis grinned as Freddie Mercury's voice filled the room.

“Good brainstorming choice,” Harry said, laughing as Louis started bopping his head to the beat of _I want to Break Free._

“Also a good soundtrack for cleaning the house to,” Louis added.

“You wear a dress while doing it too?” Harry asked, smiling mischievously. “It's what Freddie would want.”

Louis' head snapped over to Harry, who was grinning like a naughty school child. Louis loved the fact that Harry was able to make references to classic music videos. He loved everything about Harry.

“Of course, I always wear a dress while listening to Queen and cleaning the house,” Louis said, “don't you?”

“Always.”

Harry's legs would look great in a dress.

“Right, let's brain storm,” Louis said, repressing that imagery immediately. He sat down beside Harry and leaned over the paper, pen poised in hand.

In the next half hour, they managed to assemble their ideas into something resembling a presentation. It was good. Really good. Louis was very excited about some of the stuff they'd come up with and he was sure Simon would like it too. They just needed to work on their slides and fine-tune some of their ideas, but they were on the right track. Harry seemed to agree and they kept sharing smiles with each other every time they came up with a new idea or concept.

When the well began to run dry and they were both fed up working, the night descended into a sing-a-long of some of Queen's greatest hits, including a serenade from Louis to Harry of _Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy_. They were both too drunk to do anything but laugh.

Harry's phone rang. Still laughing, he pressed the 'Answer' button and held it to his ear.

“Hello?”

He pulled away from Louis, who was still lip-syncing along to the chorus.

“Oh, hey babe,” Harry said.

Louis immediately stood up and turned off the music so that Harry could hear himself speak.

“Yeah, it's going good, we got lots of work done,” Harry glanced at Louis and Louis felt a lump lodge in his throat, “I'll be home soon.”

Louis stopped listening at that point. Two minutes later, Harry hung up the phone and walked over to the sofa to pick up his coat.

“Guess that's my queue to leave,” Harry said, pulling the black material over his arms and flicking out his hair, “we did good tonight, I think. Don't you think?”

Louis smiled and walked Harry to the door, resting his hand on the frame.

“Yeah, definitely,” Louis agreed, “proud of us.”

“Me too.”

They both stood in the doorway, smiling at each other like idiots. Louis really wanted to kiss him, could practically taste it on his lips and his tongue moistened them in preparation for it, even though he knew it wasn't going to happen. Harry's eyes tracked the motion, then immediately snapped away,

“See you, Lou,” he muttered, stepping away with a soft smile and heading down the staircase, away from Louis' apartment.

Louis closed the door and let his forehead fall against the dark wood.

-*-

“I can't do this.”

Louis felt like hyperventilating into a paper bag. Niall and Liam were trying their best to provide as much moral support as possible, patting him on the back and telling him things would be fine, but Louis was still freaking out and Harry...well, he didn't know where the fuck Harry was.

“It's going to be great, man,” Liam said, handing Louis a soothing cup of tea. Louis took a gulp and scalded his tongue, but he didn't care, “You and Harry could sell shit to a farmer.”

“Are you comparing our ideas to literal shit, Liam?” Louis said, a touch defensively.

Liam's face dropped, brown eyes flicking from Louis to Niall, aghast, “No! Of course not! Niall, tell him that's not what I meant. I meant your ideas are good! ”

Louis felt a little bad for taking his frazzled nerves out on Liam, but he needed a target and Liam made it so easy.

“I know,” Louis said, breathing deeply. He needed to calm down. “Sorry, I'm just feeling a little tense right now, sorry, mate.”

“You're going to do great, Lou, honestly,” Liam said, accepting the apology without a word of acknowledgement, “just go in there and knock 'em dead!”

“Liam's right,” Niall agreed, rubbing Louis' shoulders, like a football coach before a big game, “just go in there and give the exact same presentation you gave to Liam and me a few days ago, yeah?”

“Where's Harry?” Louis raised his head, glancing over the top of the desks in the office, trying to find a familiar head of curls, “Why the fuck isn't he here?”

“He'll be here, just chill, man,” Niall said, exchanging a worried glance with Liam, “he wouldn't chicken out at the last second, that's not him.”

“If he doesn't show up in the next two seconds I'm going to-”

“There he is!”

Liam pointed across the office. Sure enough, Harry was weaving through the desks, brow furrowed as he made his way towards them. As soon as Louis' eyes fixed on him, he knew there was something wrong.

“What is it?” Louis asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said, sharply, “you got the slides?”

“Yeah, they're here,” Louis frowned, trying to catch Harry's eye, but Harry pointedly avoided his gaze, “are you sure you're OK?”

“Can we not talk about this now?” Harry muttered, finally meeting Louis' gaze, “We have enough to think about without getting into my problems. It's nothing, honestly.”

Louis had no choice but to believe him, because at that moment Simon crossed the office and beckoned them into the meeting room.

When they walked into the room, two men were sitting behind a round, white table. They stood up and reached out to shake Harry and Louis' hands, smiling politely. One was young and a little stout, whereas the other was middle-aged, with a slack mouth and curly, white hair. Louis' throat felt dry. Beside him, he could feel Harry's mood like a vibration in the air and all he wanted to do was take him outside and sort out whatever was wrong before they started. Unfortunately, that was not exactly an option.

The layout of the presentation meant that Louis and Harry spoke in intervals, each discussing their ideas on how the campaign would be run and what kind of benefits it would bring to the company. They'd timed it perfectly so that each of them would have exactly fifteen minutes to speak, rounding their presentation off neatly at thirty minutes. However, as they talked, it became apparent to Louis that Harry wasn't in a good frame of mind. He stumbled over his words, forgot simple parts of their pitch and could barely hold his own thoughts together.

As Louis peered over at the faces of the Toyota representatives, he realised that they were sinking fast. The two men exchanged subtle glances, writing down hasty notes in their moleskin notepads and sneaking peeks at their watches. Then, in one awful moment, it happened. In the middle of speaking, Harry completely forgot his words. They all sat in silence, Louis' heart jack-rabbiting in his throat as Simon shot death glares at them through his eyes. For one horrible, gut-wrenching moment, time stood still.

Then, before Louis could think too much about it, he did the only thing he could think to do: he talked. Louis took over Harry's parts of the presentation, saying everything that he could remember with as much clarity as he could muster.

Harry peered over at Louis with large, grateful eyes as he realised what Louis was doing and eventually, ever-so-slowly, the glare on Simon's face began to thaw as the Toyota representatives subtly nodded their heads at certain parts of Louis' pitch, smiling in approval. Then, as the presentation drew to a close, Louis glanced over to Harry to make sure he had gathered himself together and, when he received a firm nod in return, gently passed the ball over to him so that he could finish. Harry confidently summed up their pitch in a few paragraphs, voice loud and clear in the confines of the room, stating how the campaign would appeal to a younger generation of car-buyers, without ostracising loyal customers. Louis watched on proudly as Harry's smile grew with his closing statement.

As they waited in silence, Harry shot Louis a small smile across the room and Louis beamed back.

The dream team.

“Well boys, I think you've both presented a very nice set of ideas,” Simon said, turning to the two men beside him, “what do you think?”

The older man spoke first,

“There were some hiccups in the overall layout,” he grumbled, voice gruff and worn with time. Harry's face dropped. The man continued, “however, if we could just iron out those few kinks, I think we'd have a very good campaign on our hands.”

“I agree,” the younger man said, nodding happily, “you two have done a really good job. I just have a few questions I'd like to ask, if we're going to pursue a partnership with _Visionary_...”

Louis and Harry answered questions for another twenty minutes and, even though they didn't have all the answers, they came out of the meeting room feeling like they were walking on air. As they stepped out of the office and began walking back to their desks, Harry grabbed Louis' hand and yanked him into a supply closet.

Before Louis could process what was happening, Harry's arms folded around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Louis closed his eyes. They hugged for a long moment, bodies pressed close together as they laughed with relief.

“We did it,” Louis said, pulling away from Harry and holding his shoulders, “we did it.”

“I'm so sorry I fucked up the beginning, I just had so much on my mind,” Harry said, pulling Louis in for another hug, pressing his face into the curve of Louis' collarbone.

“What happened?” Louis asked, “Why were you so upset?”

“I just-” Harry paused, still holding on to Louis. Louis gave him a reassuring squeeze, “Darren and I had a fight this morning. It was something stupid, I over-reacted.”

Louis pulled back and looked Harry in the eyes, “What was it?”

He knew he had no right to ask, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know what had made Harry so upset and he wanted to make it better as soon as possible. Harry bit his lip, as though reluctant to say, then muttered,

“God, it's going to sound really stupid, but...” Harry sighed, “I finished making the invitations for the wedding and I showed them to him and asked what he thought and he just...”

Louis felt his blood growing hot, but tried to keep his expression neutral.

“Just?”

“He said that they were 'cute', but that his mother would be expecting a 'proper' invitation.”

Louis' mouth dropped open. Harry smiled sadly, as though trying to shrug it off, but Louis could tell how hurt he was. He'd never wanted to kiss someone's pain away so badly before, but he couldn't, so he just dug his fingers into Harry's shoulder blades and pulled him back into another tight hug.

“That's not stupid,” Louis whispered.

_You deserve more than that._

“He apologised afterwards,” Harry said, then sighed, “but I can kind of see his point, too. I know I said I wanted something personal, but Darren wants formal and there needs to be some sort of compromise.”

“Fuck formal,” Louis' arms tightened around Harry's torso, “you worked really fucking hard on those and he was a prick to say that to you.”

Louis didn't even try to hide his disdain. He would've said the exact same thing, even if he didn't have feelings for Harry. Harry went silent, then slackened into Louis' arms, submitting to his words.

“Thank you.”

They both stood there for a long moment, then Louis finally pulled back and said,

“Anyway, don't think about all that, yeah? Just think about good things. You were amazing today. You _are_ amazing. Never let anyone make you feel like you're not.”

When Harry pulled away, he said nothing for a moment, then shook his head,

“No, Lou, you were amazing,” he said, stroking the hair out of Louis' face and holding his cheek, “you saved my ass in there. Thank you.”

“It's fine,” Louis' eyes crinkled with mirth, “just thought you could use the help.”

“You amaze me, Louis,” Harry's voice sounded like a soft breath.

Louis' lungs constricted in his chest. He looked up into Harry's eyes and the returned gaze was dark and unwavering, intense beyond all recognition. It shocked Louis so much that he could feel his hands shaking, because he wasn't sure what that look meant or if it meant anything at all. Then, the door to the supply closet snapped open. Louis and Harry jumped apart as Niall's head appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” startled blue eyes darted between Louis and Harry, “what are you guys doing in here?”

“Just getting some paper,” Louis said, visibly flustered, grabbing fistfuls of printing paper and tucking them under his arms.

“Yeah, I need staples,” Harry mumbled, then proceeded to grab a cardboard box full of post-its and stuffed them into his pocket, “can't find any, these will do.”

Niall said nothing for a long moment, eyes roaming over Louis and Harry's bodies as though looking for any signs of dishevelment. Of course, he found nothing, because nothing had happened. Technically.

“How did the presentation go?” Niall asked, stepping into the supply closet beside them and grabbing a packet of file dividers.

“Really well,” They both replied at the same time, a little too enthusiastically. Harry huffed out a nervous laugh while Louis continued, “I think...we think they're going to give us the deal.”

Niall's face broke out into a huge grin, immediately forgetting everything he'd just seen. He pulled them both into a three-way hug and squeezed tight,

“That's amazing news! We need to celebrate. Drinks tonight? I won't accept no for an answer.”

“Sure, sounds good,” Louis smiled, cheek pressed against Niall's neck.

“I'm there,” Harry agreed.

“Brilliant,” Niall said, pulling back to look Louis in the eye, “you could even bring Tom, if you wanted? Give him a chance to meet everyone.”

Louis hesitated for a moment, “Oh, I'm not sure-”

He was acutely aware of Harry beside him, shuffling nervously whilst picking at the plastic covering of the post-it notes in his hand. Unfortunately, Niall was impossible to placate whenever he set his mind to something.

“Come on! You can bring your fella, too, Haz,” Niall added, nodding towards Harry, “after a year and a half or working with ya, I'm ashamed and embarrassed to say that I've never actually met your fiancé before! Beginning to think he's not real, mate.”

Harry laughed, awkwardly, then reluctantly nodded, “OK. Sure, I'll ask him.”

Niall grinned, “Excellent,” he looked at Louis, “what about it, Lou? You going to introduce us to your new man?”

Louis thought about for a long moment, then realised that he most definitely did not want to be stuck with Harry and Darren for a night and not have someone, so he nodded,

“Yeah, OK, you've twisted my arm.”

“Ha!” Niall slapped Louis' arm, approvingly, “That's the spirit! Amazing,” he stepped out of the closet, “I'll tell the other guys. What do you think? Seven o'clock? Give us all time to go home and get changed?”

Niall walked away with a satisfied smile.

-*-

Day shifted into evening so quickly that, before Louis knew it, he was standing beside the bar ordering a drink with Tom's arm slung around his waist. Niall was playing a game of darts with Lucy and Liam was making polite conversation with a bearded, elderly gentleman who had had too much to drink.

Harry still hadn't arrived. Louis knew the nervous fizz in his stomach wouldn't evaporate until he did. Still, part of him hoped that maybe Harry wouldn't bring Darren. He felt a flash of guilt every time he found himself wishing that they were still fighting.

The bartender set down two glasses of gin and tonic in front of Louis and Tom. Tom picked one up and placed it to his lips,

“This stuff makes me crazy,” he said, grinning, “last time I drank gin I had the hangover from Hell.”

Louis smirked, “That makes two of us.”

They both turned and tried to find some free seats nearby. Tom spotted a few benches in the corner of the bar and went over to reserve them, while Louis managed to free Liam from his conversation with the drunk. Just as they all sat down, the front entrance of the bar swung open and Harry walked in.

Louis' heart dropped into his stomach when he realised that he was not alone.

Louis had never actually met Darren before, but he'd stalked him enough times on Facebook to recognise him immediately. Blonde hair, blue eyes, five-foot-eleven...as close to perfect as Louis feared. In one moment of pure, horrible shock, he thought he was going to be sick on the floor. As they approached, they were intercepted by Niall, who gave Darren a brief hug and a wide smile. Louis was glad for the delay, because it gave him enough time to wipe the look of shock from his own face.

“Oh, Harry's here,” Liam said, turning in his seat. He gave a low whistle, “With a hunk, no less.”

Louis made no comment.

When Harry and Darren finally arrived at the table, Liam introduced himself first, grasping Darren's hand with his own whilst giving him a pat on the back with the other. When it was finally Louis' turn, he rose to his feet and immediately held out his hand.

“Hey,” he said, speaking directly to Darren, “nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you, mate.”

“Hi,” Darren's eyes fixed on Louis, smile friendly and genuine, “I've heard a lot about you, too.”

The handshake was tight; three firm shakes and an instant release. Louis wasn't sure if he was just imagining the tension in the air or if it stemmed from the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about how hurt Harry had been that afternoon about the wedding invitations. While looking at Darren, all Louis could think was _I'm in love with your fiancé and you don't deserve him._ The words rotated in his head, torturing him, and for one crazed moment he feared that he would say them aloud. He bit his tongue to stop himself. Meanwhile, Harry was staring at Tom, waiting for Louis to introduce them. Louis turned to Tom with a smile and said,

“Tom, this is Harry and his fiancé, Darren. Darren, Harry, this is my...this is Tom.”

Tom's smile faltered for a moment, but he immediately replaced it with a fresh one as he stood up to

shake hands with Harry and Darren.

When everybody was properly introduced, they all fell into amicable chatter. At several moments during the night, Louis thought he sensed Harry watching him from across the table, but when he flicked his eyes up to meet the gaze, he found Harry deep in conversation with Darren, dimples popping in his cheeks. It seemed that they'd both managed to get over whatever fight they'd had, judging by the way Darren was leaning into Harry's body, hand on his thigh, whispering into his ear and smiling at him like he was made from the stars.

Louis could hardly stand it.

As the night progressed, Louis found himself drinking a little too much and clinging a little to tightly to Tom, who didn't seem to mind the attention. Every so often, Louis would find himself looking at Harry, who would meet his gaze, look away, then hold it for a little longer. It felt like they were two ballerinas dancing around each other all night. Harry had been perfectly lovely to Tom, Louis had been more-than polite to Darren, and all the while they'd skilfully avoided any interaction with each other.

That is, until Louis suggested-

“Pool!” Louis grabbed a pool cue and began chalking up the tip, “Who wants to play Pool?”

“Count me out,” Tom said, shaking his head, “I'm terrible at it.”

“I'll play,” Niall said, turning to Lucy, “you in, Luce?”

“I don't know, I'm pretty terrible too,” Lucy smiled.

“I'll teach you,” Niall said, leading her over to one of the free tables.

“I'll play as long as I'm not against you and Harry,” Liam warned.

Just as Harry opened his mouth, Louis said,

“Too bad, Liam. Everyone knows Haz and I always team up for pool. It's the unwritten law.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Liam huffed out a laugh, as though equally appalled and delighted by the challenge.

“All right, all right,” Liam turned to Darren, motioning towards Louis and Harry, “what do you say, Darren? You want to team up and help me take down this pair?”

“Sorry guys, I can't,” Darren said, standing, putting on his jacket, “I have an early meeting first thing tomorrow and I really have to get going.”

“Aw come on, don't rush home,” Louis said. Even to his own ears, he sounded like an ass, “you scared we'll beat you?”

Darren paused for a moment, then slowly removed his coat again,

“All right, one game.”

“That's the spirit,” Louis grinned, “all right, Harry and I against you and Liam. You guys can break. You'll need the head start.”

While Liam and Darren broke the set, Louis walked over to Harry and handed him a cue. Their fingers brushed as it exchanged hands and Louis' insides tightened.

“Darren's really good at pool,” Harry said.

“Don't care,” Louis replied, sitting down beside Harry.

Harry stared at Louis for a moment, eyes glittering under the lamplight. From a few feet away, Liam called out to Louis that it was their turn. Louis stood up and walked over, sizing up his shot. In one smooth motion, he leaned down and sunk a red ball.

“We're solids,” Louis shouted over to Harry, then leaned down and sunk another.

“See, this is why I don't play with them,” Louis heard Liam mutter to Darren.

Harry approached the table, observing Louis' shots with a pucker between his brow. Just as Louis was about to aim for a green ball in the far right pocket, Harry leaned in close and whispered,

“Don't, you'll set them up.”

Louis raised an eyebrow, then noticed that carrying out the shot he'd planned would make it easy for Darren to sink a stripe in the middle right pocket. At the last moment, Louis changed tactic and decided to aim for the far left pocket. He didn't sink the shot, but it made it impossible for Darren to sink one either. Besides, they were already ahead.

“Thanks, babe.”

The words fell from Louis' mouth without thinking. Louis called everyone _babe_ , but it sounded different when he said it to Harry. Possessive. Luckily, Darren didn't seem to hear the slip, but Liam did and his eyes widened with almost comical shock. Harry didn't even react, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

The game went on for another forty minutes before Harry eventually approached the table to take the final shot. They only had a black ball left and they were perfectly set up to make it. Louis measured it with his eye, then watched as Harry did the same on the other side of the table. They made eye contact, then Harry slowly pulled the cue over the table and placed it between his thumb and index finger. Louis gave one firm nod when the shot was definitely in place and Harry pulled the trigger. The ball slid across the table and sank into the pocket easily, beautifully, and Louis couldn't help but let out a yell of delight.

“Wehay!”

Harry approached Louis and they both went in for a hug, but at the last moment they stopped themselves and settled for a high five instead. Liam rolled his eyes, like he'd expected the win all along and Darren just smiled, taking his defeat graciously. Still, when Louis caught his eye, he could've sworn he saw a flicker of disdain in his blue gaze.

As they returned to the table and Darren threw on his coat and kissed Harry goodbye, Louis noticed that the seat where Tom had been sitting was empty. His eyes widened as he glanced around the bar, wondering where the other man could have gone. After he'd checked the bathrooms and asked Niall and Lucy if Tom was with them, Louis decided to check outside. He found Tom waiting by the side of the road, cigarette in hand, about to get into a waiting taxi.

Louis walked towards him, breaking into a light run, then called out his name.

“Hey,” Louis said, unable to ignore the look of annoyance on Tom's stubbled face as he approached, “where are you going?”

Tom bent over into the opened door of the taxi and muttered, “I'll just be a minute.”

He closed the door and folded his arms.

“Kind of got sick of playing the third wheel all night, if I'm honest.”

Louis couldn't even pretend not to know what he meant, so he just sighed.

“Fuck, you're not even going to try and deny it, are you? I feel like an absolute idiot.”

Louis felt like an asshole.

“Look, Louis,” Tom said, speaking carefully, as though trying to select his words in a rational way without completely losing his temper, “it seems pretty clear that you and _Harry_ have some stuff you need to sort out. Am I right?”

Louis didn't know what to say.

“It's complicated,” Louis muttered, feebly, “I'm sorry.”

“I feel more sorry for his fiancé, if I'm honest,” Tom said, “he doesn't even have a clue, does he?”

“It's not...” Louis shook his head, “it's me. I'm the one who has feelings, OK? Harry doesn't even know, I've never told him. He's done nothing wrong.”

Tom stared at Louis for a long moment, then, much to Louis' surprise, he burst out laughing.

“Whatever you say. See you around, Lou,” Tom said, getting into the taxi.

Louis stood by the side of the road, speechless.

When he'd finally composed himself, he walked back into the bar and found Harry, Liam, Niall and Lucy getting ready to go. He walked over to grab his coat from the seat where he'd left it and realised Harry was already holding it out for him. Louis smiled and took it, pulling it on over his jumper.

“Where did Tom go?” Harry asked.

Louis hesitated for a moment, then lied,

“He had to go. Family emergency or something.”

A flash of concern crossed Harry's face, “Oh. I hope everything's OK.”

“He said not to worry,” Louis said, softly, wanting to reach out with his thumb and ease the worried crease between Harry's brow.

He sounded so caring, so genuinely concerned. Louis loved him so much it ached.

-*-

_ Three Months Later _

Compared to the rest of Harry's stag party, Louis was depressingly sober.

Sipping on the straw of a lavish, blue lagoon cocktail, he sat with an aura of woe around him like a black rain cloud in a silent movie. At the start of the night he'd tried very hard to feign excitement, buying everyone shots and leading them on a pub crawl of all the best bars in the city. Even paint-ball had been adequately fun (apart from the current pain in his upper thigh, which felt like a stab wound) and for a while he was able to forget that the man of his dreams was getting married in two weeks.

Unfortunately, at around midnight, reality caught up with Louis.

All around him, stripper podiums were lit up with red neon and dancers were floating around the bar, encouraging him to pay for a private show or buy another drink. He politely waved them away. In truth, he just wanted to be left alone for a moment, but that was impossible considering he was with some of the loudest, brashest men in all of London. Eventually, Louis was forced to paste on a smile and rejoin the group.

The rest of the boys were in the VIP area, which was built on a raised platform overlooking the rest of the club. When Louis got there, he wasn't surprised to find Nick Grimshaw from Recruitment offering up his belly-button as a shot glass, laughing without shame as Niall sucked tequila from it.

Louis ignored them and made his way over to Liam, who was sitting with a small crowd in one of the booths.

“Hey,” Louis said, tapping Liam's shoulder, “where's Haz?”

Liam turned to look at Louis, a drunken glaze to his eyes, then smiled.

“Hey Lou,” he said, drawing out the words, “haven't seen you all night. Where you been, buddy? Have a shot with me.”

Just as Liam was about to drag Louis to the bar, Louis laughed and set a hand on his chest.

“Hey, big guy, just give it a second,” Louis said, “do you know where Harry is?”

Liam thought for a moment, intense concentration, then turned to Louis and said,

“No.”

Well, that was helpful.

Louis allowed Liam to wander off to the bar for another shot and tried his luck with Niall.

“Oh, I'm not sure,” Niall said, _“_ maybe he's in the bathroom or something?”

Louis let out a sigh of relief. It's not that he'd trying to avoid Harry all night, per say, but he also hadn't been going out of his way to hang out with him either. In truth, Louis was afraid that if he spent too much time with Harry, Harry would almost definitely know something was wrong with him.

“Right...OK. Well, I'm going to head outside for a smoke.”

Just as Louis turned to walk away, he felt Niall's hand on his arm.

“Wait, I'll come with.”

They made their way outside, shuffling past all the smokers before finding an empty bench near a heater. Louis pulled out a packet of Marlboro Reds and lit up, inhaling a deep breath.

“So,” Niall said, rubbing his hands on his jeans, like he was just about to broach a touchy subject, “how you feeling?”

It was no secret to Niall exactly how Louis was feeling, so Louis didn't know why he'd bothered to ask. Still, Louis was nothing if not honest.

“Terrible.”

“No shit,” Niall laughed, “you hide it so well, too.”

“If you're going to sass me, you can go back inside,” Louis said, mumbling around the filter in his mouth. Still, there was an edge of humour to his tone, like he knew his situation was so ridiculously depressing and all he could do was laugh.

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in the sound of people laughing and chatting all around them. After a moment, Niall said,

“Did you ever think about just telling him?”

The question surprised Louis so much he almost choked on the smoke of his cigarette. Still, when he looked at Niall, the blonde's face was completely serious.

“When would I have done that? He was with Darren from the moment I met him.”

“Yeah, but...did you not just want to tell him and then, you know, you'd have an answer? You wouldn't be here right now wondering 'what if'?”

“What exactly are you saying? That it's my fault Harry's not with me?”

“That's not what I meant, I just thought- Ah, I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud here, ignore me.”

“No, I want to know,” Louis said, “I thought you were convinced he didn't feel the same? Isn't that what you kept telling me? That I needed to get over it? Move on, I think is what you said.”

“Hmmm.”

Niall's lack of answer made Louis' heart stop. His mouth dropped open,

“No,” Louis said, “Niall, no.”

“All I said was 'Hm',” Niall tried to defend himself, but it was too late.

Louis felt like he was about to lose his mind.

“I know what you meant. That was a loaded 'Hm'.”

“I'm just sort of thinking out loud here. Obviously I know that it's too late for you to say anything now, but I've just started to notice stuff,” Niall said, shaking his head, “ever since that day I caught you two in the supply closet. What was that about, by the way?”

Louis sighed, “Nothing happened.”

“Louis,” Niall said, that familiar tinge of sympathy to his voice that Louis despised, “something is happening. It's been happening for a very long time now.”

“What kind of stuff have you noticed, exactly?” Louis asked.

“I don't know,” Niall shrugged. Louis fixed him with a dark look. Niall rolled his eyes and reluctantly elaborated, “Christ, Louis, what do you want me to say? I notice the way he looks at you, mainly. I never did before, which is probably why I thought it was all in your nut, but I've noticed lately.”

“The way he looks at me?”

“Yes.”

“How does he look at me?”

Niall smirked, “Like you're the complete opposite of what you really are, which is a dick.”

Louis raised his middle finger to Niall, who burst out laughing.

“No, seriously,” Niall said, expression serious, “he loves you, Louis. He really fucking does.”

Louis' breath left his lungs. “I know he loves me. I just don't know if it's the same way I love him.”

“I guess that's why I'm asking,” Niall said, “What exactly were you afraid of? You had so many opportunities to tell him, to finally find out the answer to that question, rules be damned and you didn't. Why?”

“I was afraid of losing my best friend,” Louis muttered, “I was afraid the whole stupid thing was in my head all along.”

“Hm,” Niall pondered, “but wouldn't it have been better if you'd known for sure?”

Louis held his breath for a moment, watching the swirls of smoke from his cigarette evaporate into the night.

“I don't know.”

-*-

When Louis eventually found Harry, he was being forced into a chair, about to receive a lap dance from a dark-haired, dark-eyed man in a red thong with impossible cheekbones. As Louis watched the rest of Harry's stag party gather around, laughing and cheering him on, he couldn't even hide the displeasure from his face.

As the music started, the stripper slinked down between Harry's knees and nudged his thighs apart, rolling his glistening body into him, offering Harry a coy smile. Louis could tell he was drunk from the red flush of his cheeks, curls askew, black shirt hanging open to reveal pale collarbones. A hot coil of jealousy flared up within him as the dancer traced his hands up and down Harry's thighs, touching him in ways Louis could only dream of.

Louis did the only thing he could think to do to distract himself: Drink.

If it was sitting in a glass, Louis drank it. He stole sips of Liam's beer, accepted complimentary shots from strangers and, as time went by, he became drunker and louder, his joy slightly manic. When Harry finally approached him, Louis' emotions were numb enough that he could actually pretend to be happy for him.

“Hey,” Harry smiled, speech a little slurred, but still coherent, “where have you been all night?”

“Just celebrating,” Louis said, loud and brash, “it's a great night, I'm having a blast!”

“You are?” Harry tilted his head to the side, a small smile playing on his lips, like Louis' drunkenness amused him.

“Yes, of course,” Louis replied, putting his arm around Harry's neck, “my best mate is getting married, what's not to be happy about?”

At that moment, Liam, Niall and a group of Harry's friends gathered around them to urge them onto the dance floor.

The alcohol had completely infiltrated Louis' system by now, making him even more outgoing than usual. When they finally reached the floor, Louis raised his arms into the air and began dancing in a way that would be embarrassing even if nobody was watching. His moves were ridiculous; flamboyant and majestic and completely over-the-top and every time he caught Harry's eye, the other man cracked up laughing.

The playlist was a myriad of nineties dance anthems mixed with Top Forty hits, genres that nobody in their group particularly liked but seemed to be hitting the spot on this particular occasion. When Cher's ' _Believe_ ' came on over the speakers, they were all drunk enough to think it was the best song selection of the entire night.

“It's Cher!” Harry yelled over to Louis from his spot in the middle of the group, barely audible over the thump of the music, “I haven't heard this since I was a kid!”

“You call yourself a gay man?” Louis teased, eyes flashing mischievously.

Harry cut through the small crowd between them and sidled over to Louis, squaring up to him.

“Excuse me? You mind repeating that?” He said, pretending to be threatening.

Louis laughed and Harry took another step forward, looming over Louis in an attempt to be even more threatening. Finally, when he couldn't hold his serious expression any longer, Harry laughed too.

“Damn it,” he said, “I cracked.”

“Face it, Styles, you're not intimidating,” Louis placed a consoling hand on Harry's shoulder, “deal with it.”

Harry pouted, “I could be.”

“You couldn't scare a small child even if you were dressed as a clown.”

Harry elbowed Louis and Louis recoiled, giggling slightly. Harry retaliated by tickling Louis' sides, because he knew Louis was extremely sensitive there. Louis flinched, batting Harry's hands away and Harry grinned in satisfaction.

“Fine, you're scary!” Louis relented, “Happy now?”

At that moment, the song changed. By this point, the group around them had slowly started to disperse, leaving to get drinks or have a smoke, until it was just Harry and Louis left on the floor. Louis was about to ask Harry if he wanted another drink, but Harry wasn't paying attention as he listened to the music playing over the speakers.

“I love this song.”

Louis looked at Harry for a long moment, then said,

“Do you want to dance? Just for this one?”

Harry glanced down at the floor, then up into Louis' eyes, hesitating for only a brief moment before nodding.

“OK., Just this one and then we'll find the others, yeah?”

Louis nodded and they began to dance to the music. The lyrics were heated and intense and all the couples around them started to drift closer. A lump formed in Louis' throat as he kept his eyes on Harry's and Harry did the same. All of a sudden, Louis was acutely aware of how much distance was between them and he made a conscious effort to not let himself get any closer.

As the song progressed into the chorus, Louis felt the hairs on his arms stand up. Harry looked at him with black eyes, playful smile gone from his lips and Louis tried to imagine what the other man was thinking. He felt Harry's right hand brush against his own and wondered if it was intentional or not, then scolded himself for being so stupidly hopeful.

_Of course Harry isn't doing it intentionally._

Louis reprimanded himself harshly for even entertaining the thought, but when it happened again and Harry's hand lingered, Louis' mind went blank. He looked up through his lashes and into Harry's eyes, which were now only inches from his own. Before he had time to process how they'd gotten so close, he felt Harry's fingers graze his waist, pulling their bodies together, until they were chest to chest. Louis' heart raced under his ribcage and he was sure Harry could feel it.

“Sorry,” Harry whispered, “people are pushing me. It's easier this way. This OK?”

Louis' eyes danced over Harry's face and in that moment he was so sure Harry was lying, but he nodded anyway and whispered,

“Yeah. Course, it's fine.”

They danced that way for a few moments, swaying slightly, completely out of sync with the pace of the music. Louis' breaths came out shakily as he reached up and tentatively placed his hands around Harry's neck. It was the closest he'd ever been to Harry physically and it was intoxicating. Harry smelt like Herbal Essences shampoo and felt like solid muscle and warmth and comfort. Louis wanted to wrap himself up inside Harry's body and never return to the world. The alcohol in his system only intensified this feeling, making him ache inside. Everywhere Harry touched felt like a fire burning into his skin.

“You smell nice,” Louis muttered, lips close to Harry's ear. He was so close he could see the gooseflesh on Harry's skin as hot breath hit his neck.

“I do?”

“Yeah.”

“What do I smell like?”

Louis breathed deeply, taking the question as permission to do so, then smiled, “Like my house.”

Harry leaned back and raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly, “Your house?”

“Yeah,” Louis' eyes crinkled, “I used to steal my sister's shampoo. I think you use the same one.”

“So...I smell like your sisters?”

“No,” Louis said, “you smell like me.”

Harry bit his bottom lip, chewing it between his teeth, then squeezed his eyes shut, as though struggling with some kind of internal battle. Louis felt like he was dreaming when Harry finally leaned forward and rested their foreheads together, eyes staring into Louis'. It felt like they were drinking each other in, trying to gorge themselves on each other's appearance until they couldn't stomach the sight anymore. Unfortunately, it didn't work, because Louis could look at Harry all day and still ask for more.

_What are we doing?_

Harry's hands moved from Louis' waist to his arms, trailing along his forearms and up towards his biceps, then down to the skin of his elbows. Each caress was soft and tentative, like he was examining a prized possession, eyes scanning every freckle on Louis' face as though trying to memorise it. Louis' breath hitched in his throat as Harry finally reached up to cup his face, thumb tracing the pillow of Louis' bottom lip.

“Harry...”

Louis could barely hear his voice through the music. Harry said nothing, just continued to look into Louis' eyes and Louis knew in that moment what Harry was trying to say without words. It felt like a cleansing, like a year's worth of repressed emotions were coming to the surface because they both knew they were running out of time. Louis didn't know what this thing was between them, but it was there and it was real and it wasn't going away.

Louis wasn't sure if it was the music or the moment or the thoughts racing through his head. Maybe it was Niall's words from earlier, making him doubt himself, affecting his ability to think logically, but before he knew it he was opening his mouth and closing his eyes and whispering,

“Come home with me.”

Harry's body stiffened underneath Louis' hands.

“What?”

“I said, come _home_ with me.”

Harry pulled back and Louis reluctantly looked up into shocked eyes.

“I can't.”

“Please, Harry,” Louis whispered, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions. He sounded desperate but he didn't even care.

“Please don't ask me that again.”

Louis' heart dropped in his chest. In one horrific moment, he realised that he'd read the situation all wrong. All of a sudden, the weight of what he'd just said came crashing down on top of him, making him feel rotten to the core. _What kind of a man tries to seduce another man at his own bachelor party_? Louis felt himself blush with shame and, in a moment of instant sobriety, he pulled himself from Harry's arms.

“Lou,” Harry muttered, reaching out to try to stop him, but Louis shook his head.

“I think I see the guys,” Louis lied, walking across the dance floor and away from Harry, “I'll just go check.”

As soon as Louis made eye contact with Niall, Niall's face dropped, immediately sensing something was wrong. While the rest of the party gathered up their belongings and made their way back to the limo, Niall kept casting Louis worried glances, trying to usher him to the side to talk but Louis kept telling him to 'drop it'. On the ride home, the tension between Louis and Harry was palpable. Louis could feel Harry's concerned gaze on him from the other side of the limo, but he ignored it. Niall whispered in his ear,

“What's going on?”

“Harry knows,” Louis mumbled.

He gave no more detail than that, but luckily none was required. Besides, Louis didn't want to face the judgement in Niall's eyes if he'd told him what really happened.

“Oh...shit.”

“Yeah,” Louis turned his head slightly and fixed his eyes on Niall's, “shit.”

By the time they'd dropped everyone off home, it was only Louis, Niall and Harry left in the car. Harry was biting his bottom lip, hard, like he was about to chew it off. Niall was tapping his hands on his thighs, nervously, like he couldn't wait to just get out of the car. Louis felt nothing, sitting like a zombie, staring out the window. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, the limo stopped outside Harry's house. Harry stepped out and cast a final glance back into the car, standing with the door open. Niall gave him a small, sympathetic smile and said,

“Bye, Hazza. Hope you had a good night.”

“Yeah. Thanks again for setting it up, Niall, I had a great time.”

Niall nodded and gave a final wave. Louis kept his eyes on his hands and said nothing. After a few moments, Harry closed the door.

As the driver took off, Niall sighed,

“Jesus, that's...that was heavy.”

Louis folded over on himself, forehead touching his knees, and took in a deep breath to keep himself calm. He was going to have a panic attack if he didn't calm down. Jesus, Harry knew. Harry actually knew how Louis felt about him and now all Louis could think was-

“I'm going to have to quit my job, Niall.”

“ _What?_ ” Niall looked at Louis like he'd grown an extra head, “Wise up, you're not going anywhere.”

“Harry knows!” Louis' eyes widened with shock, “Harry knows how I feel about him.”

“Jesus, you didn't actually tell him, did you?”

“You told me to!”

“That was just hypothetical, Louis! Fuck, I didn't mean tell him _tonight,_ are you crazy?”

Louis let out a long moan and closed his eyes, “Yes.”

“God,” Niall whispered, shaking his head, eyes filled with empathy, “How did he react? What did he say?”

Louis let out a bitter laugh,

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “there was nothing he _could_ say.”

Louis hated seeing the pity in Niall's eyes. It made him feel like an idiot. Like a hopeless, pathetic fool. He wanted to rewind the night and take it all back. It's just... for a moment Louis could've sworn that Harry felt it too.

“I don't know what to say, man,” Niall said, “I'm sorry.”

“You should've seen him,” Louis whispered, “he looked at me like...”

He couldn't even finish the sentence, choking on the words. _Like he felt sorry for me_.

“What am I going to do?” Louis asked, flicking his eyes up to meet Niall's. “I've fucked it all up.”

“No you haven't,” Niall said, “Harry won't make you feel bad about this. He's not like that.”

Louis sighed, looking out the window.

“No, he's not, is he? He's too kind to do something like that,” Louis said, “too fucking perfect.”

Louis rested his head in his hands once again, feeling wave after wave of anguish wash over him. He felt like someone had died. Like a part of him had died, too. He'd convinced himself that he and Harry were meant to be, written in the stars, too perfect for each other for Harry not to feel the same. Now that he knew otherwise, his brain couldn't make sense of anything. It felt like he'd been lying to himself for the past year and now he was confronted with bitter reality. The thing was, he couldn't help but be angry at Harry, too. Angry that Harry had made it so easy for Louis to fall so hard, always encouraging him to fall harder with every flirtatious smile and ambiguous comment. Small things that Louis had read into and absorbed, until he was saturated with love.

“Lou, you OK?” Niall asked, an edge of concern to his voice.

Louis pulled his head up from his hands and breathed out, shaking his head,

“I honestly just feel numb.”

Niall nodded, “I understand.”

“You were right, Niall.”

Niall frowned, “About what?”

“Everything. You knew I was destined for disappointment with Harry from the very beginning. You always knew how this was going to turn out for me.”

“Hey,” Niall said, gently but firmly, “that's not what I thought. I just wanted you to be sensible, Louis. Harry was _engaged_ , you always knew this was a possibility. I just didn't want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” Louis said, “and I should have listened.”

Niall sat quietly, not saying another word, just staring at Louis like he was afraid the older man was going to open the car door and jump to his demise at any moment.

When the limo finally stopped outside Louis' house, Niall watched carefully as Louis opened the door and stepped out.

“You sure you're OK?” Niall asked, “You want me to stay with you?”

Louis shook his head, lips forcing themselves into a tight smile,

“Nah, mate, I kind of just want to be alone, if you don't mind,” Louis said.

Niall looked like he really didn't want to leave Louis alone, but instead of arguing he just nodded and said,

“Fine, but if you change your mind just call me. I'm here for you, buddy.”

Louis felt a swell of affection for the blonde in that moment, but simply nodded his appreciation and shut the door.

When he finally reached his apartment, he flung off his coat and undressed, getting ready for bed. He carried out each action like a zombie, carefully removing his shirt and jeans and replacing them with flannel pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth, mind completely empty, because he didn't want to think about anything right now. Thinking just made him upset. When he finally tumbled into bed and pulled the quilts up around him, he heard his phone buzz on the bedside cabinet. He glanced at the screen and stared blankly at the name flashing out at him. _Harry_.

Two missed calls and three new messages.

Louis couldn't bare to look. He didn't want to hear Harry's apologies or talk about how they could still be friends, because the truth was Louis didn't know if he could be just friends with Harry. He could try, pretend, but he knew he would always have feelings for him and pretending otherwise wouldn't be fair on either of them.

Louis pulled himself out of bed and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. After he'd taken a few mouthfuls, he sat down on the sofa, holding his phone in his hand. He stared at it for a long moment, feeling its weight, then let out a sharp exhale and unlocked it. Just as he was about to open Harry's first message, the bell to his apartment rang.

Louis' eyes snapped over to the intercom. For one crazed moment, he wondered if the sound had just been his imagination. It rang again. Louis' heart thudded in his chest as he slowly stood up and padded across the room, reaching out to hold the button for the speaker.

“Hello?” He said, voice raw from yelling in the club.

“Hi.”

Louis' pulse raced in his throat. He could feel it throbbing.

“Louis, you there?”

“Hi,” Louis said, clearing his throat, “hey.”

“Can you buzz me up?” Harry asked, voice low.

Louis closed his eyes, finger hovering above the button, then let out a long breath as he pressed the buzzer.

In the two minutes it took for Harry to ascend the staircase to Louis' apartment, Louis had grown frantic. He swiped his hands back through his hair, tidying himself, body shaking with terror. He wasn't sure what would come of this, whether it would be good or bad, but there was only one reason Harry would travel over to his house in the middle of the night and Louis tried not to have a heart attack thinking about it.

When Louis heard a soft tap on his door, he reached out with trembling fingers and unlocked it.

Harry stood in the hallway, hair hanging loose around his shoulders. They stared at each other for one long moment before Harry took one step forward and Louis instinctively reached out to grab his shirt collar, pulling their bodies together as Harry kicked the door shut with his foot. They didn't speak. Louis' heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. When their lips met, Louis let out a soft moan and crushed Harry's body closer to him, holding him tight, reaching up to curl his fingers through Harry's hair like he'd imagined doing for so long. Harry encouraged him, returning each caress, answering each moan by allowing Louis' tongue deeper into his mouth.

They pulled away just long enough to look at each other.

Harry's lips were deep pink, bitten and sore, eyes like two panes of glass fixed into a face of flushed skin and in that moment a spike of inexplicable terror ran through Louis' entire body. The kind of terror that came with wanting something so badly that the thought of finally getting it was frightening beyond measure. Before he could think too much about it, he pressed his lips to Harry's once again and Harry kissed back eagerly, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist and pulling him in. Louis arched up into Harry's hold, then grabbed his hand and led him down the dark hallway, towards his bedroom.

They collided with furniture as they tried to navigate their way to Louis' room, knocking lamps off tables and tripping over shoes and coats that Louis had left on the floor, promising to pick up later. Harry didn't seem to care though, just held Louis' chin in his big hands and angled his face so that he could kiss Louis deeper and harder. _More._ Louis could practically feel Harry's desperation in every touch and he returned it with just as much vigour.

When they finally made it to Louis' room, Louis tried to open the door, fumbling for the handle with one hand. However, Harry wouldn't let him go for long enough to actually find the damn thing and when they eventually managed to open the door, Harry had grown so impatient that he immediately slammed Louis against the wall and pinned his arms up.

Louis heard his own breaths in his ears as they both stood there, bare-chested in the middle of his room, the cool draft causing their bodies to shiver. Or maybe that was the adrenaline. Louis had never seen this side of Harry, would never have dreamt that Harry would even be capable of this kind of manhandling and was even more surprised by how much it turned him on.

Then, without saying a word, Harry leaned forward and pressed his face deep into Louis' neck, trailing soft kisses along the smooth skin until he reached behind his ear. When Louis felt the wet flick of Harry's tongue against the shell of his left lobe, he moaned and buried his chin into his right collarbone, giving Harry more access.

“God, I want you,” Louis whispered, unable to stop himself after so long of keeping the words to himself. “Don't stop, please.”

At the sounds of Louis' heavy breaths, Harry's movements became frantic. He reached down and fumbled with the button on Louis' jeans, popping it open and reaching his hand in to cup Louis through his cotton briefs. Louis inhaled a sharp breath at the contact, lips parting for a moment, only to be caught up in an open-mouthed kiss. Harry's tongue flicked at the seam of Louis' lips, requesting access and Louis opened for him without hesitation.

“Please, Harry,” Louis whispered, voice unfamiliar to his own ears.

Harry replied by kissing the side of Louis' mouth and whispering, “Tell me.”

“Put your hand on me,” Louis pulled one of his arms free from Harry's hold and reached down to guide Harry's hand underneath the waistband of his briefs, “like this.”

Louis heard Harry's breath catch in his throat as his hand made contact with the hard length of Louis' cock. He reassured him by gently pressing his lips to Harry's, urging him to continue. After a moment, Harry shook himself from the open-mouthed trance he was in and began rubbing Louis again, massaging the bare skin with his fingers. Louis could feel himself getting wet, pre-come leaking from his cock at even the slightest touch from Harry.

Their movements were quick and frantic, years of unexpressed emotions channelling into one night. Harry removed his hand from Louis' underwear and curled his fingers into the waistband of his briefs, then, in one swift tug, pulled them down and fell to his knees in front of Louis' cock. Louis glanced down just in time to catch Harry's fierce expression as he looked up, opened his mouth and sank down.

Louis' whole body jerked as Harry immediately took him all in, down to the hilt. He closed his eyes, colours bursting behind his eyelids as he allowed himself to absorb the sensation of Harry's lips, Harry's mouth: _Harry._ Without thinking, Louis reached out and threaded his fingers through Harry's hair, carding through the thick waves as he watched him pull back and sink down again, tongue and mouth working together to create a hot, tight cave. Just when Louis thought Harry couldn't get any more beautiful, he looked up through his lashes and held eye contact, as though encouraging Louis to look at him and know exactly who was responsible for this feeling.

Louis let his head fall back against the wall, panting and breathless, taking in the sensation of Harry's tongue licking a long strip up the shaft of his cock and curling around the head, pressing down on the slit, eagerly lapping at the droplets of white that had accumulated. Louis tightened his hold on Harry's hair and guided his mouth, Harry followed each silent command eagerly, bringing Louis right to the edge before finally pulling off.

Harry stood up and licked his lips. Louis watched the movement carefully, eyes fixed to the wet tip of Harry's tongue. When he finally regained control of his muscles, he pressed one hand to Harry's chest and pushed him backwards onto the bed, throwing one leg over him to straddle his thighs.

Louis took a moment to observe the body below him.

Harry was bare-chested, still dressed in his jeans, hair sticking out at odd angles around his face. In one smooth movement, Louis unbuckled Harry's belt and moved back to pull the denim from his legs; exposing the long, lean muscles underneath. When they were both finally naked, Louis looked down at Harry's body and felt something close to awe. Moonlight shone through the slats in the windows, casting pale luminance and shadows over his limbs. His face was soft and gentle, lips swollen from kissing and eyes low with hunger and Louis couldn't stop himself from leaning down and covering that mouth with his own for another long, deep kiss. He could feel Harry's big palms on his naked back, pulling him down, fingers spreading and digging into soft flesh, leaving bruises. Everything within him wanted to be closer.

When it all became too much, Louis reached over to his bedside cabinet and pulled it open. He cast a look over to Harry, pausing for a moment as Harry stared at him with parted lips. He wanted to say something, to ask Harry if he was sure he wanted to do what they were about to do, but he couldn't summon up the courage. Instead of using words, Louis asked with his eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, Harry, in the subtlest of gestures, nodded.

Louis let out a soft sigh of relief, then turned and pulled a blue bottle of lube and a condom from his drawer, setting them on the bed. Harry watched silently as Louis ripped open the wrapper and rolled it over Harry's cock, then popped open the lid of the lube and let the gel coat his fingers. When he was finally done, he settled back down on top of Harry's torso, straddling him once again, then reached back and inserted the tip of one finger into himself. Louis hissed slightly as he went deeper, breaching the tight ring of muscle, throwing his head back, trying to ride the wave of discomfort. When he was finally comfortable enough to insert a second finger, he felt Harry's hands on his ass, squeezing lightly, eyes fixed to Louis' body and feeding off every hiss and moan and twitch of muscle tension that he exerted.

Louis wanted to put on a show for him.

When he was finally ready, he looked down at Harry, swept a hand back through the damp strands of his fringe and slowly sank down. The feeling of connection was overwhelming as they slid together, shaking Louis to his very core. When he started moving, he could feel Harry gently thrusting into him, a quiet restraint to his movements, like he was afraid of hurting him. Louis didn't want to be treated gently though, so he rose up and fell down hard on Harry's length, causing the other man to gasp and buck up. The head of Louis' own cock lay wet and heavy against his stomach, begging for attention, and Harry reached down between Louis' legs and began rubbing him firmly in time with each thrust.

“ _Fuck_ , Harry...” Louis' voice came out in a breathless whisper, “I've wanted this for so long.”

Harry looked up and met Louis' eyes. Louis did not look away. He wanted Harry to know just how much he meant every word.

“Wanted you for so long...could hardly stand it.”

He gasped as Harry's thumb flickered over the head of his cock.

“How long?” Louis barely recognised the low growl of Harry's voice.

“Since the moment I met you,” Louis replied, stupidly honest, too caught up in the moment to care, “wanted you for that long.”

Harry let out a soft moan. Louis closed his eyes tightly and gradually increased the pace of his thrusts, chasing whatever it was that existed between them, hoping to God it wouldn't disappear.

“Louis _,_ ” Harry whispered, “look at me.”

Louis looked down and felt the breath leave his lungs. Harry's face was red and blotchy, chest heaving, hair dishevelled... _beautiful_.

Louis' whole body trembled as he came and Harry held him through it, pressing kisses to his face and hair as he continued to push up into Louis' body. Within seconds, Harry came too. Louis clenched around him during the aftershocks, riding the waves of it together.

As they lay in bed, breathless and aching, Louis turned his head to take in the sight of Harry's naked form, facing the wall. He paused for a moment, then slowly shuffled over and draped his arm around Harry's torso. Harry flinched underneath his hold for the briefest of moments, then relaxed and sank back into his arms, making a soft, humming noise of contentment in his throat.

Still, something niggled at the back of Louis' mind, twisting his gut into knots.

“Should we talk about this?”

There was silence, then Louis felt Harry's hand clasp his own, holding it there in the dip of his diaphragm. Harry twisted his neck around, searching for Louis' lips and when he found them, he kissed deeply. Then, without another word, he set his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes.

Louis tried to ignore the voice in his mind, telling him that they should talk and allowed himself to snuggle down into Harry's comforting warmth. He pressed his chest to Harry's back and tightened his grip around his waist, pulling their bodies closer together. Louis wanted to be as close to Harry as physically possible, terrified of letting him go.

“Harry?” Louis whispered into the darkness.

All Louis heard were Harry's light snores in return.

-*-

When Louis woke up in the morning, Harry was gone.

His eyes sprang open as he threw out his arms, expecting to find a warm body next to him, but they landed on cold sheets. The other man had obviously been gone for a while.

Louis felt the dull throb of a hangover behind his eyes as he sat up and peered around the room. Even though he was almost one hundred per-cent sure that Harry was definitely not in the flat, he got up and checked the entire apartment from top to bottom, just to be sure. When he was finally standing alone in his kitchen, naked and vulnerable, the urge to cry felt like an alarmingly real possibility. Louis hadn't cried since his grandmother had passed away three years ago, but he felt like crying now. The threat of it burned his throat, making him see double. There was only one reason why Harry would be gone this morning and Louis knew exactly what it was.

In a daze, Louis got dressed into a pair of grey jogging bottoms and a black t-shirt and sat on his sofa, wondering if he should call someone. Who would he call? He couldn't tell anyone what had happened, it felt too personal, yet keeping it to himself made him want to die. Louis turned the idea of calling Niall over and over in his head, pulling out his phone and bringing up his contacts. His heart was beating, but in the end he didn't call Niall. Louis' frantically searched through the names in the list, then tapped on one in particular. He held the phone to his ear and waited, biting on his fingernails.

' _Hi, it's Harry, I can't take your call at the moment, but if you'd like to leave your name-'_

Louis put his phone down and let out a long sigh, not bothering to leave a message. What would he even say? Why the fuck did you leave me, you fucking asshole? Even as the thought crossed Louis' head, he couldn't believe it. There's just no way Harry would do that.

And yet here he was...

Louis sat forward, running a hand back through his hair and pressed the 'Call' button once again. No answer. He continued to press it, call after call, frantic and desperate, but Harry did not pick up. Eventually, Louis grew so frustrated that he threw his phone on the floor and didn't care about the crack he heard when it landed.

An hour passed before Louis got dressed. He hopped into the shower first and stood there, letting the water run over his limbs in wet sheets, barely able to summon up the strength to rub the soap and shower gel over his body. He could feel Harry still on him, hot against his skin and he couldn't bare to rub away the only reminder of him. The only proof that the night was real. After scrubbing some shampoo through his hair and washing away the residue, Louis stepped out of the shower and pulled on a black t-shirt and jeans. When he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, he saw a purple mark on his neck, round and glowing, shaped exactly like Harry's mouth.

Louis pulled his eyes away from his reflection and stepped out of the bathroom, walked through his bedroom and back into the kitchen. He picked up his phone from the ground where he'd left it and found a missed call flashing on the screen. His heart picked up speed for a moment as he slid his thumb across the screen to reveal the name, then let out a breath of disappointment when he saw it was Niall.

Instead of calling Niall back, Louis picked up his keys from the table and walked out the door.

-*-

When Niall opened his front door, Louis looked up from a spot on the ground and peered into concerned, blue eyes.

“Louis?” Niall said, standing in the doorway in just a hoody and shorts. “What are you doing here?”

Niall's face dropped as he took in the expression on Louis' face, “What's wrong?”

Louis only thought about his answer for a moment, then calmly replied,

“I slept with Harry.”

The words fell from his mouth like they would in a dream.

Niall's face morphed into shock, mouth opening and closing like he'd lost all words, but somehow Louis still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that any of this was real. As Niall tried to find his composure, Louis stepped past him and into the house, far too dazed to even think about social etiquette. He made his way into Niall's living room and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his chin on clasped hands.

Niall closed the front door and followed. Louis couldn't bring himself to face his gaze.

“When did this happen?” Niall finally asked.

“Last night,” Louis whispered, face burning with the memory and from the shame, “I didn't-I didn't think it would. I mean, I didn't plan it or anything, I just...” Louis sighed, “I don't know what I was thinking.”

Louis could feel Niall's eyes burning into the side of his face. “God, Louis, I don't know what to say.”

Louis nodded, because he probably wouldn't know what to say either. Finally, Niall sighed,

“What the fuck happened?”

The enquiry was gentle with concern, lacking the judgement that Louis thought he'd receive. Niall probably knew that Louis was not in any sort of state to cope with a lecture on the morality of what he'd just done.

“H-he came to my flat last night,” Louis rubbed his forehead with his hand, closing his eyes tight around the memory.

“But we dropped him home last night,” Niall's eyes scanned Louis' face, confused, “I saw him get out of the limo. I was there.”

“I know,” Louis mumbled, “it was after that.”

“You invited him?”

“No,” Louis shook his head, then frowned, “well, yes...at the club, we were dancing and I...I asked him to come back to mine.”

“ _Louis_!” Niall gasped.

“I _know,_ ” Louis covered his face, “Niall, I know, I'm a fucking idiot but I was drunk and he was just so, _so_.... I just lost control for a moment.”

“So he said no and then, what? He changed his mind?”

“I...I don't...”

Louis stared at a space in the corner and sighed. He didn't know. He didn't fucking know the answer because he never fucking asked. Was too stupid to listen to his own sense even though it'd begged him to talk to Harry about it at the time. Now, he had no answers.

Louis trailed off. Niall whispered a faint _'fuck,'_ as he let the magnitude of what Louis had told him sink in.

“Where is he now?” Niall asked.

Louis shrugged, raising one hand into the air and letting it drop, “I have no idea. He was gone when I woke up. No note, no nothing.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

Silence fell between them. Louis wanted Niall to speak, to say anything just to distract him from his own thoughts, but the silence continued. Finally, after what felt like hours, Niall said,

“So...did he tell you anything about how he felt, or?”

Louis thought about the question for a moment, turning it over and over in his mind, trying to remember any small detail. Finally, he replied,

“No,” Louis cleared his throat, “he didn't.”

Niall let out a long breath and shook his head, muttering into the air, “Ah Harry, what are you playing at?” He turned his attention to Louis, “What are _both_ of you playing at?”

Louis didn't know. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing. It felt like getting into a roller coaster only to realise there's no straps to hold him in.

“I'm scum,” Louis said, quietly. “I'm an absolute piece of shit.”

“Hey, come on now.”

Louis turned and looked at Niall, tears filling his eyes.

“Am I a complete idiot, Niall?”

“Look, I won't say that what you did was OK...” Niall whispered.

Louis groaned and put his head in his hands.

“Wait, let me finish,” Niall said, putting a hand on Louis' shoulder, “I was going to say that, even though what you both did was pretty awful...well, it's got to mean something, right?”

Louis looked up and blinked at Niall.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall squeezed Louis' shoulder, reassuringly, then continued, “I've watched you pine like a lovesick idiot over Harry for over a year. Maybe it wasn't the best timing in the world and maybe it wasn't the right thing to do, but fuck, Lou, you only live once.”

Louis stared at Niall for a long moment, letting the words sink in. He wanted to tell Niall about his deepest fear that last night was simply a way of Harry getting whatever it was between them out of his system before getting married. Even though Louis knew deep down that Harry would never be so cruel, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Hadn't been able to since the moment he woke up in a cold, empty bed. However, instead of saying all this, Louis simply nodded,

“Thank you,” he said, voice soft with sincerity, “that actually helps a little.”

“You're welcome, buddy.”

Louis stayed at Niall's house for a few hours, too emotionally fragile to return to his own flat when every surface reminded him of Harry. When dusk finally fell and Louis couldn't prolong the inevitable any longer, Niall walked him to the door. The blonde stood with one hand on the frame and looked down at Louis on the porch.

“Have you tried calling him?” Niall asked.

“Yes,” Louis nodded, “about a hundred times, but he won't pick up.”

Niall grimaced. Louis was just about to turned around and leave, when he turned back and said,

“Hey Niall?”

Niall raised his eyebrows.

“Please don't tell Harry I told you this...”

Niall nodded. Louis continued,

“And if you speak to him, can you-” Louis thought carefully about his words, “can you just tell him to call me? Please?”

Niall smiled sadly and nodded once again. Louis gave a small wave of thanks, which Niall returned, before turning and closing the door.

-*-

Two days passed.

What little hope Louis had had in his heart gradually depleted until there was almost nothing left. He'd stopped trying to contact Harry by the end of the first night, when it'd became obvious that he was being ignored. Now, sitting in his bed eating cereal at nine o'clock at night, Louis had reached rock bottom. Every emotion that had threatened to overwhelm him over the past few days seemed to crash down on him at once, numbing his brain into submission. He let the thoughts that he'd tried to suppress flow freely through his mind, causing his heart to sink in his chest. _He's made his choice_ , Louis thought, _he's had me and now he's decided that I'm not what he wants._

The thoughts were toxic, designed purely to inflict pain upon himself, but he couldn't stop them. It was like picking a scab and watching it bleed, never letting it heal. He tried to tell himself to get over it, that it was just one night, that he'd had one night stands before...but it was one night with _Harry_ and that's what Louis couldn't get over. The memory of it made his toes curl.

At nine-thirty, Louis' phone rang. He picked it up and glanced at the screen to see who it was. Liam. He let out a small sigh, because he knew that Liam would no doubt be calling to suggest he go out somewhere or do something that he most definitely was not in the mood for. Louis knew that Liam suspected there was something wrong, even if he didn't know what exactly, but it was clear in the way he was trying so hard to get Louis out of his own head. After a long moment, Louis answered.

“Hey, what's up, mate?” he said, trying to sound as happy as possible.

“Hey, buddy, you up to much tonight?”

“Eh,” Louis looked down at his quilt-covered lap, filled with a cereal bowl, “just busy with work stuff. Flat out, you know? Really busy stuff.”

“Oh,” Liam's voice dropped, losing it's excited quality, “you didn't seem too busy a few days ago when you were trying to make origami at your desk?”

Louis wrinkled his nose. Damn Liam and his all-seeing eyes!

“Yeah, well, some stuff came in. A lot of stuff.”

“Oh...OK, sorry to hear that. I was just going to see if you wanted to come down to the pub for a drink?” Liam lowered his voice, “You'll never guess who is here with me.”

Louis quirked an eyebrow, unable to hide his interest, even if Liam couldn't see him.

“Who?” he asked, taking the bait.

“Zayn!”

Louis' eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Wow, really?”

“Yeah. Crazy, huh? I haven't seen him since, you know...everything.”

“Yeah, fuck, how's he doing?”

“He's doing good, but you _could_ ask him yourself if you come down for a drink?”

Louis thought about it for a moment. It'd been years since he'd seen Zayn and he had to admit, he was curious to know how the other man was doing.

Zayn had worked in _Visionary Advertising_ for years and when Louis had met him, they'd both became instant friends. Zayn had always had a huge crush on his secretary, Perrie, but he'd been with his girlfriend for two years and knew nothing could ever happen. Despite this, rumours about Perrie and Zayn meeting up outside of work plagued the office, but Louis had brushed them off as salacious gossip. That is, until one day when Simon had walked in on Zayn and Perrie half-dressed in Zayn's office and they were fired right on the spot. Louis had always thought that Zayn was an idiot for getting wrapped up in something so ridiculous, for falling for someone when he was so obviously unavailable. Now it made his gut twist and writhe with empathy.

Even though Louis wanted to see Zayn, he did not want to be confronted with a man whose situation desperately resembled the problems he was currently trying to run away from.

“Sorry, I really can't,” Louis said, finally, “tell Zayn I said hey, though.”

“No problem,” Liam said, sounding a little disappointed, “I'll maybe ask some of the other guys if they want to come down.”

Louis wanted to ask if Harry would be one of those other guys, but he bit his tongue.

-*-

When Monday morning finally rolled around, Louis woke up with a knot of dread in his stomach. He'd finally have to face Harry today and the thought of it sent his heart racing and his insides coiling.

Pulling on a white shirt and a pair of dress trousers, Louis glanced in the mirror and noticed the harsh, black pillows underneath his eyes. He ignored them and went through the motions of his morning routine in a trance-like state, trying not to think too much about the inevitable encounter that lay ahead. He ate his cereal a spoonful at a time, drinking a cup of tea and doing a morning crossword in the paper. When the clock read 8:30 a.m., he slipped on his shoes and walked out the door, locking it behind him. He arrived at the bus stop just in time to catch the eight-thirty-five and got off at Exeter street. As he walked into the building, his teeth began to chatter and his skin rose in gooseflesh on his arms. He was so nervous. He pulled open the door and took the elevator to the fourth floor, where he stepped out and mumbled a greeting to his co-workers, making his way towards his work station.

Louis couldn't decide if he was happy or disappointed when he arrived at his desk, only to find that Harry wasn't there yet. He frowned and sat down, glancing at the clock and thinking how rare it was for Harry to be late.

“Hey Lou,” Niall said, appearing beside Louis' desk, “how's things?”

“Good,” Louis replied, slumping down at his desk and sighing, peering up at Niall under long lashes. “Is he here?”

“Nope. Haven't seen him.”

“Oh...”

“Might just be running late,” Niall shrugged, offering a half-hearted excuse.

Louis lifted an eyebrow at the blonde, “Niall, Harry has never once been late. You expect me to believe that today, of all days, he's suddenly unpunctual?”

“Coincidence?”

“I don't believe in them.”

Niall pursed his lips, staring hard at Louis, then asked, “Have you heard from him at all?”

Louis shook his head, “Dead silence.”

“Me neither,” Niall said, playing with his fingers, nervously, “I'm a little worried about him. I've tried calling and he just doesn’t answer. I even stopped by his flat and he wasn't in.”

“Really?” Louis asked, feeling a little worried himself now.

“Yeah and now he's not in work?” Niall sighed, “This isn't like him at all. His head must be all over the place.”

“Yeah, well, join the club,” Louis muttered.

At that moment, Liam arrived at the table, looking way too happy for first thing on a Monday morning.

“Hey lads,” he said, face dropping as he looked at Louis and Niall's serious expression, “wow, who died?”

“Nobody,” Niall brushed it off before Louis got the chance to say something overly dramatic in response, “do you know where Harry is?”

Liam looked over at Harry's empty desk, then back to Niall,

“ _Oh,_ so that's why Louis looks so miserable,” Liam chuckled. Louis shot him a death glare. Niall just cringed at how awkward Liam was without even knowing it. “Don't worry, Lou, Harry's just got the flu. I think it might just be a two-day hangover from the other night, though. He drank _a lot._ ”

Louis' eyes shot up to Liam.

“Harry was there?”

“Yeah,” Liam said, “didn't get to talk much to him though. He spent a lot of time talking to Zayn.”

“About what?” Louis asked, heart skipping a beat.

“I don't know, I wasn't really a part of it, I was playing darts,” Liam said, “seemed pretty serious, though.”

Louis' mind reeled with the possibilities.

“How is Zayn?” Niall asked.

“Oh, fine,” Liam said, “still with Perrie, actually She stopped by for a moment.”

“They're still together?” Louis replied, dumbly.

“Well...I imagine so,” Liam replied, looking at Louis like he was a little bit stupid for asking the question, “Zayn's got another job now, too. He's a freelance artist. Draws illustrations for books and magazines, all that stuff. Apparently he just sold a drawing to the _New York Times_ for some competition thing, which I honestly can't remember exactly what it is now, but it's good news!”

“Sounds like it all worked out for him,” Niall said, smiling brightly, “I'm happy for him.”

“Yeah,” Liam nodded, “I think being fired was the best thing that could've happened to him, actually.”

Louis couldn't help the little zip of envy that threaded through his bones at the thought of Zayn and Perrie living happily ever after. He used to think Zayn was an idiot, back in the day when his crush on Harry had been just a seed, not a full-blown forest. Now, Louis thought he was the luckiest bastard on Earth.

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully and unproductively. Louis could barely concentrate on his work because every time he read something or tried to take notes, his mind rudely interrupted him with thoughts of Harry and he'd lose his train of thought and have to start all over again. It didn't help that Niall kept shooting him sympathetic glances, like a concerned mother, or that Liam kept unintentionally stepping his foot in it by mentioning Harry every time he was within two feet of Louis' presence. By the time the clock hit five, Louis was ready for the day to be over.

This torturous ritual continued for a week. Every day Louis walked into work, he expected to see Harry, but Harry's mysterious 'flu' seemed to be stuck to him like the plague. Louis wondered if this was it and he'd never see Harry again. Even Simon was starting to get agitated with Harry taking so many sick days, because he swarmed around the office with a pinched face, making barbed comments to anyone who would listen about how the words 'paid' and 'sick leave' were not designed to go together. At various points Simon had tried to ask Louis where Harry was, complaining that he couldn't afford to be off for so long when the Toyota campaign was still fragile in its early stages. Louis had simply shrugged and told Simon that he would try to do as much of the work as he could on his own, which had earned him a full desk and several late nights. He didn't mind though. It took his mind off...everything.

The following Monday morning, Louis walked into the office and paused.

His heart raced in his chest and his eyes widened like saucers. Harry was sitting at his work station, beside Louis' desk, biting on the end of his pen and sliding a hand through his dishevelled hair. He did not look good. Harry looked tired and worn out, bags under his eyes, tie askew around his neck. For the past week, Louis had thought about how he'd react when he saw Harry again and now that that time had come, the only emotion he could distinguish from his own nerves was sharp, intense anger.

Louis walked over to his desk and sat down, switching on his computer and putting his stuff on his desk. He didn't let his anger show. In fact, he didn't even look at Harry at all, but he knew Harry was looking at him. He could practically feel the anxiety running off him in waves.

“Lou?” Harry said, breaking the silence. His voice was so quiet, like a whisper in the wind, buried underneath the white noise of office chatter, “Louis?”

Louis didn't respond, just kept his eyes on the computer, heart racing with palpable rage because even though he loved Harry, he hated him. Louis didn't realise how truly angry he was until he saw Harry again, too distracted by his own pain to realise how much resentment was boiling beneath the surface.

Taking the hint, Harry stopped trying to get Louis' attention and they continued to work quietly until lunch. Every moment between them seemed to fizzle, like an electrical current running through the air. In fact, the feeling was so intense that Louis didn't know if he'd be able to stand it. In fact, the longer he was around Harry, the more he thought about going home. He didn't know if he could stay in the same room as him all day. Being so close...it was too much to handle.

All the rest of the guys seemed to notice the tension as well, because when lunch rolled around, everyone sat in the staff room, eating their sandwiches in silence. Louis saw Niall giving Liam awkward glances in his peripheral vision. Liam kept his eyes pinned firmly on his sandwich, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Louis stirred his tomato soup with a spoon, staring at the thick, red liquid. Harry ate nothing and said nothing. He'd been trying to talk to Louis all day, but Louis kept him at a cold, silent distance.

“ _So_ ,” Liam said, finally, “you feeling better, Haz?”

Harry glanced up and blinked several times, as though surprised to find that there were other people in the room. He cleared his throat and nodded, “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Just a flu, then?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, clearly lying, “nothing too serious. Good now.”

“Well I'm sure Darren was taking care of you,” Liam said, smiling, as though he'd just said something very cute.

Niall put a hand on his head, like he couldn't believe Liam had, yet again, said something so utterly and unintentionally thoughtless. When Harry didn't reply, Liam's face dropped and he stopped trying to make conversation.

“Lou, can I talk to you a second?” Harry asked, calmly, over the silence of the table.

Niall and Liam were silent, waiting for Louis to respond. Louis raised his eyes and when he opened his mouth, he was surprised by the sinister quality of his own voice.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

At that moment, Liam stood up and made an excuse to go back to work, finally realising that the awkward tension in the air was coming from Harry and Louis and not from the lack of conversation. Niall tried to follow, but Louis held him in place with a sharp glance. Harry's eyes remained focused on Louis.

“Please,” Harry said, “I can't stand you not talking to me.”

“Well you should have thought about that before you fucked me, shouldn't you?”

Harry's lips parted as he glanced at Niall, who simply stared at the table like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world. When he got up to leave this time, Louis didn't try to stop him.

“Does Niall know?” Harry asked.

“Why, did you want me to keep it a secret?” Louis asked, a barbed hiss, “You ashamed of me or something?”

Harry looked away, mouth set in a troubled pout.

“You know that's not true at all,” he whispered, fiercely.

“Do I?” Louis asked.

They stared at each other across the table, caught in a stalemate, while their co-workers talked about the weather around them.

“Please,” Harry said, green eyes searching Louis', trying to find a way in, “you know it's not that simple. Can we talk about this somewhere a bit more discreet? I really want to talk to you about...everything.”

“I feel like leaving in the middle of the night said it all, don't you?” Louis muttered, annoyed by the emotion he heard in his own voice.

Harry averted his eyes, cheeks reddening with shame.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, “I was just so-”

“No,” Louis said, feeling his stomach clench, “please don't say anything else. I just can't right now.”

“OK,” Harry said, reluctantly, “I'll leave you alone, but please promise me you'll talk to me when you're ready. It can be any time, day or night, just...please let me know.”

Louis wanted to tell Harry that he had no right to ask anything of him, but he always did have trouble saying no to him.

“I will,” he replied.

Harry's shoulders relaxed and he nodded, standing up to leave. Louis remained in the staffroom, wondering to himself if he ever would be ready to talk to Harry.

-*-

In the days that passed, Harry was true to his word and stayed away from Louis. He didn't try to talk to him at all and avoided any of the after-work invites from Niall and Liam to go for drinks. Louis knew it was because Harry didn't want to upset Louis by going. Louis appreciated it, but it only made the heavy feeling in his heart worse.

Things weren't the same.

Half the fun of going to work in the morning was being able to see Harry. Now, Louis' days were too quiet, his heart too heavy, and everybody noticed. Even Liam had started to notice and every so often Louis would see Liam and Niall whispering and stealing glances at them across the room. He couldn't even find the strength within himself to tell them off for it. As for Harry, he just tried to stay out of Louis' way. Of course, that meant they kept running into each other everywhere. When Louis went to the staff room to make a cup of tea, Harry was there. When Louis went to the supply cupboard to get paper clips, Harry was there fetching paper. After a while, Louis realised that he wouldn't be able to ignore Harry forever. Everything was still so up in the air between them and Louis knew that eventually, inevitably, it would have to come down. He just wanted to avoid that moment for as long as possible.

“Are you just going to avoid him forever?” Niall asked one morning, while they were standing making a cup of tea.

“Yes,” Louis said.

Niall sighed, “You know, I get why you're angry, but you're never going to get any answers if you don't speak to him.”

Louis raised a hand and swept his fingers through his hair, fixing Niall with a cool look.

“Since when did you become a love guru?”

Niall snorted into his cup, causing the hot liquid to spill over.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing a tea towel to dab at the wet patch on his shirt, “Not sure. When did you become so pigheaded? Actually, don't answer that, you always were.”

Louis gave an indignant huff, but didn't argue.

“Niall,” Louis said, cautiously, staring over at Harry's desk where the brunette was sitting with a concentrated frown on his face, “what do you think he wants to say to me?”

“I don't know, mate,” Niall said, “only one way to find out though.”

“I can't,” Louis said.

“You can.”

“No, you don't understand,” Louis shook his head, “I want to, but I _can't_.”

The look of sheer anguish on Louis' face made Niall pause. After a moment, he said,

“Look, Lou, I don't know what Harry is going to say to you, but I do know that his head is...it's _fucked_ at the moment. He's been engaged to the same guy for five years, was planning a _life_ with him and then he meets you and all of a sudden you've blown everything out of the water. Can you not understand how terrifying that must be for him?”

Louis remained silent, letting the words sink in, then replied,

“Yeah, I do. Five years is a long time to throw away for a one night stand. If we talk, it's not going to turn out well for me, Niall.”

“You're not just a one night stand to him.”

“I felt like I was.”

“Even if you were, you can't just bury your head in the sand,” Niall said, a hard edge to his voice as he stepped away from the kitchen and headed towards his desk, “talk to him!”

Those words rang in Louis' ears for the rest of the week and into the weekend. On Saturday night, when Louis was sitting in his apartment watching Netflix and staring at his phone, all he could hear was Niall's Irish twang:

_Talk to him. Talk to him._

When Louis couldn't stand the sound any longer, he reached out and grabbed his phone, pulling up Harry's name and typing out a quick message. He didn't think it over, just pressed send and waited in silence.

_Are you busy?_

Barely a minute passed before Louis felt his phone vibrate.

_No...are you ready to talk?_

_I think so_ .

_Can I come over?_

Louis' heart thudded at the thought. He wanted to say no, that they could talk about it over the phone, but the thought of doing so just made him feel worse. When Louis didn't reply after a while, his phone vibrated again.

_Please..._

Louis sighed and closed his eyes.

_Yes._

-*-

Harry arrived at Louis' house ten minutes later and Louis wondered how many speed limits Harry had to break to be at his front door in that space of time. When Louis opened the door, Harry was leaning on the frame, looking sad and tired, but also like he'd made an effort to look nice. He was wearing a black shirt embroidered with roses and black jeans, hair falling in neat waves around his face.

“Come in,” Louis said, stepping aside to let Harry through, “how are you?”

The question was a polite enquiry, but Harry thought about his answer carefully as he stood in the middle of Louis' living room.

“Not good,” he replied, “not good at all. You?”

Louis sat down on the couch and motioned for Harry to do the same. Harry perched himself on the edge, as though trying to take up as little room as possible.

“Not good.”

Silence.

“I'm sorry, Louis,” Harry said, threading his hands through his hair, struggling with some internal battle, “I'm just so sorry.”

An unamused smile graced Louis' features. Harry gave him a sad look.

“What did you want to talk about?” Louis asked.

Harry played with his fingers and bit his lip. “I don't even know where to start.”

“How about the beginning?”

Harry looked at Louis, then inhaled a deep breath and said,

“We've never really talked about this...thing...between us.”

Louis' whole body was trembling. Fuck, they were really going to talk about this.

“I assumed you didn't want to,” Louis whispered.

“I guess part of me didn't,” Harry whispered, thinking carefully about his words, “talking about it made it real. I think I felt guilty because I wasn't trying to stop it and I knew I should've been.”

“You wanted it to stop?” Louis asked.

Harry slowly shook his head.

“No, I never wanted it to stop. I wanted your attention so much, you have no idea,” Harry's hands were shaking slightly and he held them to keep them under control.

“Well, you had it,” Louis said.

“And you had mine.”

Their words hung heavily in the air.

“God, this is hard,” Harry said, putting his face in his hands, “I don't even know what to say.”

“How about we both ask each other questions we want to know the answers to, would that make it easier?”

Harry nodded, “You first.”

“OK,” Louis said, leaning forward, “why did you leave in the middle of the night?”

Harry gazed at Louis for a moment, then said,

“I needed time to think,” he closed his eyes, “I know that sounds like a shitty excuse but it's true. I was lying beside you and then I started getting this massive panic attack because...just, _fuck,_ you know? I just needed some time to sort my head out.”

“You didn't even leave a note,” Louis muttered, “do you know how it felt to wake up and you were gone? You could've fucking talked to me.”

“I couldn't,” Harry shook his head, adamantly.

“Yes, you could!”

“Louis, when I'm talking to you I can't think. I don't think. You make me forget to think at all.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Finally, Louis said,

“It's your turn.”

“OK. When we were, uhm...you know,” Harry cleared his throat, “you said that you wanted me from the moment we met.” Louis' face burned red. “How true is that?”

For a moment, Louis considered lying, because the truth felt far too exposing. In the end, he decided it didn't matter.

“More or less. Maybe a month after we first met,” Louis watched the ripple in Harry's throat as the other man nodded, “does that surprise you?”

“In a way. I always knew you were a flirt but I always thought that was just you being you. You were like that with everyone,” he cleared his throat, “I always thought you were afraid of commitment. In all the time I've known you, you've never been serious with anyone. I thought...I thought when you were flirting with me it was just a joke. That you weren't being serious.”

Louis leaned forward and licked his lips, choosing his words as carefully as possible.

“Harry,” he said, “I've never wanted to commit to anyone more than I want to commit to you.”

Harry inhaled a shaky breath, then exhaled. “You are so hard to read sometimes, Lou.”

“I was different with you,” Louis said, “you had to have known that.”

“Well I didn't. Or maybe I just didn't want to acknowledge it,” Harry said, quietly, “I just wanted to carry on like normal and that way nothing would have to change. I never thought it would get so out of hand.” Louis knew exactly what Harry was talking about. “I've never cheated on anyone before in my life.”

Louis had a sudden flashback of Harry's face, gazing up at him with glittering eyes, flushed and red and panting in the darkness. _Cheating_.

“So why did you?” Louis asked, “That's my question.”

“Because...it's you.”

Louis closed his eyes.

“My head was so screwed up when I left that night,” Harry sighed, “and I had nobody to talk to about it. I felt like Niall and Liam would hate me for it.”

“They don't hate you,” Louis whispered.

“I know,” he sighed, “but at the time I didn't know what to think. Then one night Liam told me Zayn was going to be at the pub and I knew he'd been through something similar with Perrie, so...”

Louis head snapped up, “You talked to Zayn?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me that it wasn't about choosing between you and Darren, because somewhere in my mind I'd already made my choice. I already knew who I wanted to be with. It was just a matter of finding the balls to admit who it was and cut off the other.”

“Sounds like something Zayn would say.”

They remained silent for a long moment, then Louis quietly asked,

“Harry...how do you feel about me?”

This was it. The moment that would make or break everything. Harry's face dropped and Louis could hear the blood rushing through his ears.

“Louis,” Harry said, shaking his head slightly, “I've never met anyone that made me feel the way you do. You make me feel happy to go to work every morning. You make me feel like I can do anything. I spent so long telling myself that we were just friends, but that's not true. It never was. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

The world paused for a moment, then an overwhelming rush of emotion raged over Louis in a euphoric wave. He wanted to wrap Harry in his arms, then go to his room and sit alone and cry. After a year of thinking his feelings weren't requited, Harry was telling him they were. It was more than he ever could've dreamed.

Harry shifted forward, gravitating into Louis' space. Louis' heart jack-rabbited in his chest. He shook his head, body trembling with nerves.

“I'm saying I want to be with you,” Harry said, “I've wanted it for so long, I can't remember a time when I didn't want it.”

Louis could hardly process Harry's words. Tears threatened to roll down his cheeks, but he held them back. In a small voice, he asked,

“Do you remember that night, when we were working at my place and I walked you to the door...did you want to kiss me?”

He wasn't sure why it mattered, but suddenly he wanted to know.

“Yes.”

Louis exhaled a soft breath, something between a moan and a whine. This was just...too much.

“Did _you_?” Harry asked.

“I always want to kiss you.”  


Harry sat still for a moment, then smiled, then laughed and put his face in his hands.

“God, that shouldn't make me so happy,” he said, “but it does.”

“Yeah?” Louis' eyes crinkled at the corners.

Harry nodded, raising his head to look at Louis again.

“But...what about Darren?” Louis asked.

“I ended it,” Harry said, eyes to the ground, “I just couldn't, not after...”

Harry played with his ring finger and it was only in that moment that Louis realised he wasn't wearing anything on it. His eyes widened,

“Oh my God,” he whispered, “ _Harry_...”

Harry smiled sadly, “It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life.”

“I can't believe you-” Louis face paled as he continued to look at Harry's ring finger, unable to believe his own eyes.“W-what did you say?”

“I told him the truth. I told him there was someone else and that I couldn't marry him.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Louis asked. “This whole week, you never said a word about it.”

“You said you weren't ready to talk,” Harry shrugged, “I wanted you to be ready.”

Louis stared at Harry, speechless. Harry looked down at his hands and whispered.

“He cried when I told him. He was so upset, I couldn't even console him, I just kind of...stood there and watched.”

Harry's face contorted with emotion, as though it physically hurt him to think about it. A stab of guilt pierced Louis' stomach.

“It's over,” Harry said, pulling Louis' attention back to him, “there's nothing in the way now. So, I guess my only question left is...how do you feel about me?”

Louis reached out for Harry's hand and grasped it in his own, inspecting his ring finger curiously. Harry's palm was clammy with sweat, but Louis raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to it anyway. Harry inhaled sharply.

“There are no words,” Louis said.

Harry shifted closer and raised his hand to cup Louis' cheek. Neither of them moved for a long moment, until finally Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Louis', a soft brush. Louis closed his eyes at the unexpected contact and when Harry pulled away, he immediately craved more.

“I've wanted to do that for the longest time,” Harry said, resting his forehead against Louis', “just wanted to kiss you.”

“You have kissed me,” Louis whispered.

“Not like that.”

Harry gently pressed his lips to Louis' again, mouth slightly opened. When their lips parted and Harry's tongue caressed into his mouth, Louis' whole body burned on fire. His hand shot up into Harry's hair, cheeks flaming red, heart pumping adrenaline into his system in waves. They followed each other's movements, lips melting together, tongues brushing in perfect unison.

As the kiss became more heated, Louis felt Harry's body pushing into him, hands resting on the patch of skin near Louis' waistband where his t-shirt had ridden up. Louis sighed, nipping the spot beneath Harry's ear with his teeth, making him gasp.

Harry pushed Louis back into the sofa, body falling on top of Louis' in a graceless sprawl and Louis laughed as Harry perched himself up on his knees and pulled off his t-shirt, hair billowing around his face in frizzy curls. He soon stopped when Harry caught his mouth again, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss.

Louis felt lost in it all, like a lucid dream, so vivid and real and everything he imagined it would be. He hissed and screwed his eyes shut when Harry rolled his hips against him, right where the crotches of their jeans met, shooting his hands out to pull him closer. As Harry continued to rut against him, breaths laboured in his ear, Louis slowly brought his hands down and slid them below the waistband of Harry's jeans. When they parted, Harry said,

“Do you want to know when I realised?”

Louis tilted his head to the side, curiously. “Realised what?”

“That I wanted to be with you,” Harry whispered, kissing Louis' neck, “that I was sure?”

“Yes,” Louis moaned. God, he wanted to know. “Tell me.”

Harry pulled back and smiled, “It was when you told me that story about you skinny-dipping in a fountain in Rome.”

Louis burst out laughing, “ _That_ made you sure?”

Harry nodded, eyes glittering as he watched Louis laugh. Then, his expression turned serious.

“With Darren, nothing was a surprise. It was so comfortable and I knew exactly what to expect. For so long, I needed that. I thought it was what I wanted. I really did and I'll love him forever for it...but you,” Harry exhaled, softly, “you're everything.”

Louis' body stilled as he listened, trailing his fingers up and down Harry's back, reassuring him.

“I am?” He whispered.

“Yeah. You've got this free spirit that I just can't get enough of and I never know what the fuck to expect with you,” Harry smiled, “but you've also always been there for me. You encouraged me to stand up for myself. You make me laugh until I think I'm going to be sick. I feel safe with you, Louis.”

Louis swallowed, “You do?”

“Yes,” he said, “more than I ever have with anyone.”

“I'm glad.”

_I want you to feel safe with me. It's all I've ever wanted._

Louis reached up and traced his thumb along Harry's lip. Harry kissed it.

“Do you want to go to my room?” Louis asked. Harry nodded. “Come on.”

They made their way to Louis' room, stopping along the way to pin each other against the walls, ravaging each other like they had no control over their own bodies. When they finally reached the door, Harry pushed Louis through it and urged him onto the bed, then stood at the foot of it and looked down at him with lowered eyelids.

“Come on then,” Louis said, eyes glittering in the darkness, “I want to see you.”

Harry smiled, a little shyly, then looked down and unbuttoned his jeans, hair falling into his face. Louis watched with rapt fascination, breath stuttering, eyes falling over the smooth contours of Harry's bared chest and legs as he discarded his jeans on the floor. He was standing in only a pair of black Calvin Klein's now, the thick outline of his cock visible underneath the fabric. Louis could feel himself getting harder at the sight, mouth dry. Then, in one quick motion, Harry slid his hands underneath the waistband of the boxers and slipped them off.

Louis drank in the sight of Harry's large, thick cock standing upright against his stomach, head red and swollen, leaking pre-come from the slit. Louis' own throbbed sympathetically in his underwear and he reached down to give it a squeeze. Harry's eyes tracked the movement from across the room.

“Now you,” Harry said.

Louis quickly pulled off his own t-shirt and discarded it onto the floor, followed by his jeans and finally his boxers, until they were both staring at each other's naked bodies. It felt entirely intimate, more intimate than the first time, when they were drunk and frantic with lust. This time, Louis was able to see and take in all the tiny nuances of Harry's body, every line and curve, and he loved every part of it. All he wanted to do was touch him and hold him and tear him apart limb from limb. Louis had never felt like this about anyone before in his life.

“Come here,” Louis whispered.

Harry took one step forward and set his knees on the bed, crawling over until they were close enough to touch. Louis reached out and pulled Harry onto his lap, cocks brushing together as Harry straddled him. They kissed for a long time, hands exploring each other, getting to know every unfamiliar curve and jut of bone that they didn't get to experience the first time. Louis' heart soared every time he found a spot on Harry's body that elicited a noise, a moan or a sigh of pleasure. It was everything.

In one smooth movement, Louis rolled them over until Harry was beneath him, tracing a line of kisses down his body, avoiding the one place where he knew Harry was most eager for him. He pressed kisses to Harry's thighs, higher and higher until he eventually reached the crease of his leg, cheek brushing lightly against his balls.

“Louis, _please_ just-”

Harry's voice cut off as Louis mouthed at his balls, then sank down on his cock, lips wet and moist against the skin. Harry's fist bunched itself in the bedsheets, body quivering as Louis pressed his hands to his hipbones, holding him in place. He sucked on the tip, massaging the base with his hand and pumping it slowly while he licked and played with the head. Harry's whole body trembled as he laced his fingers through Louis' hair and peered down at him with wide eyes. Louis looked up as he slowly dragged his tongue up the shaft and pursed his lips against the ridge with medium pressure, repeating the motion a few times, feeling Harry buck beneath him. Harry's stomach tightened with every tiny caress and movement of Louis' lips. When Louis pulled off and slowly dragged his tongue against the hole at the tip of Harry's cock, Harry's hand tightened in his hair and he pulled off, looking into his eyes.

“You've got a filthy mouth.”

In the space of a second, Harry flipped over and frantically pulled open the drawer of Louis' bedside cabinet, taking out a little foil packet along with a blue bottle of lube. He tore open the wrapper with his teeth, then cast his eyes up to Louis'. Louis wasn't sure what to think. It was everything he'd ever wanted. Just as Harry was about to open the bottle of lube, Louis gently pulled it from his fingers and said,

“Here, let me.”

Harry's eyes scanned Louis' for a moment, then he nodded, lying back on the bed as Louis popped open the lid and coated his fingers with gel. When Louis' first finger breached Harry's entrance, Harry reached up and gripped the back of Louis' neck with his hand, body shifting in slight discomfort. Louis kept his eyes trained on Harry's expressions, looking for even the slightest change. When he entered a second finger, Harry winced. He stopped.

“Are you OK?” Louis asked, concern edging his voice.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I'm fine, just...it's been a while. I'm usually the one who....it's just been a while.”

Louis' whole body ignited at the thought that he was the first person in God knows how long to touch Harry this way, in the most intimate place you can touch another person. He kissed Harry, full and open, fingers still fixed to the same spot inside him. Harry pushed down on them, eager for more, then hissed,

“Another.”

Louis complied, letting one more finger slide through with only a hint of resistance. When he was sure Harry was comfortable, Louis hooked his fingers, searching for that sweet spot he knew was there. When he found it, Harry's whole body jerked into it, pushing down. More friction. Through laboured breaths, Harry said,

“Now, Lou, I'm ready now.”

Louis quickly pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the head of his cock, lining it up. They locked eyes for a moment, then, without any further hesitation, Louis pushed inside. When he finally bottomed out, they held eye contact, warm breaths huffing in each other's faces. Then, Louis leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's, warm and wet and inviting as he began to slowly pump into him.

With each roll of Louis' hips, Harry sank down, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Louis tucked one hand down between Harry's legs and wrapped it around the heat there, head leaking furiously, dribbling down the length. Harry responded by pushing himself deeper onto Louis cock, hips snapping forward, like he wasn't sure where his attention needed to be. Louis dragged his teeth down the exposed column of Harry's neck, biting down gently on his Adam's apple, kissing the mark he left there.

They were both close to the edge now and Louis knew it. He sped up his thrusts, keeping them long and deep, hand tugging relentlessly on Harry's cock. Harry's voice came out of his mouth in a deep groan,

“Fuck, Lou, I'm going to-”

Before Harry could finish the sentence, a thin line of white shot out from the head of his cock, onto Louis' chest. Louis continued pumping until Harry sagged against him, fully spent, and a few short seconds later Louis followed him. Harry held him through his climax, hands in Louis' hair, pulling him closer until Louis collapsed on top of him, warm and sweaty and exhausted. They inhaled and exhaled softly, breathing in unison, basking in the afterglow. When Louis looked up into Harry's eyes, Harry stared back in a daze, like neither of them could believe what they'd just done. Louis leaned up and pressed another soft kiss to Harry's lips and Harry lifted his hand to cup Louis' cheek, rubbing the bone with his thumb.

“Why did you never tell me?” Harry asked.“Why did you wait so long?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Louis whispered, “why did you never tell me?”

Harry blinked several times, surprised by the turn of the question.

“I was scared. I'd been with Darren for so long, I didn't think it was possible for me to...”

“What?”

“To feel this way about somebody else.”

Louis carded his fingers through Harry's hair, playing with the strands, letting them fall through his fingers.

“I've never felt this way about anybody else,” Louis said, letting his hand fall on Harry's neck, “ever. You're perfect, Harry.”

Harry shook his head, but smiled.

“That's really not true.”

“It really is,” Louis said, “I'm so lucky.”

“I'm the one who's lucky,” Harry whispered.

Louis scoffed. Harry sat up,

“It's true. You must know...”

Louis shook his head. “Know what?”

Harry pulled Louis closer, burying his nose in his neck.

“You don't even know how amazing you are,” he breathed in deeply, inhaling Louis' scent, “anyone would want you to want them.”

Harry's words were like laudanum to Louis; drugging him, seducing him, making him dazed.

“I mean, have you not seen the way Nick looks at you?”

Louis snorted out a laugh, staring down at Harry's mischievous grin.

“You've _got_ to be kidding!”

“I'm not,” Harry chuckled, “he looks at you like you're prime rib.”

“He does not!”

“Does too,” Harry argued and it felt like they were children. Louis felt ridiculously, deliriously giddy.

“Harry, he once told me that my hair looked like a wet otter sunbathing on my head,” Louis said, glaring at Harry for laughing, “not the words of someone who is smitten.”

“Yeah, but it's like kids in a playground, he only says stuff like that because he likes you,” Harry wiggled his eyebrows.

Louis glanced at Harry, who looked like he knew more information than he was letting on. Louis looked at him suspiciously,

“What exactly makes you so sure about this?”

Harry bit his lip, terrible at lying, “No reason.”

“Tell me now.”

“All right, he may have mentioned it,” Harry said, grinning.

“What did he say?” Louis' asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Just that it makes his day when you wear tight jeans on casual Fridays,” Harry said, “can't say I disagree with him.”

Louis' eyes lit up, “And here's me thinking you never noticed.”

Harry smiled, “Oh, I noticed.”

Louis felt like warm tea was trickling through his insides, pooling in his stomach.

“Hey, Lou?”

Louis looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don't want to rush into this. Not until I have everything sorted with...” he paused, like he couldn't say the words, “just, not until I have everything sorted.”

It suddenly occurred to Louis just how much Harry would have to deal with over the next few weeks, in what was to be the run-up to his wedding. He'd have to cancel bookings, make God-knows-how-many phone calls and notify all their guests that the wedding was cancelled.

“I'm sorry,” Louis said, feeling very bad all-of-a-sudden.

Harry frowned,“Why are you sorry?”

“Because, you've got so much shit to deal with now, because of me.”

To Louis' surprise, Harry laughed, “Hey, Louis?”

“What?”

“You make me ridiculously happy,” Harry smiled softly, head resting lazily on his arm, “you know that?

Louis smiled. He couldn't stop the emotion from choking his voice as he whispered back,

“I do now.”

-*-

_Six Months Later_

“Harry, hurry the fuck up, we're going to miss the flight!”

Harry bounded along after Louis, trailing two suitcases on wheels along behind him whilst shouldering the weight of both his and Louis' hand luggage. Louis carried the passports and boarding passes.

“You know, you _could_ help,” Harry huffed as they came to a stop at the boarding gate, peering at Louis over the top of his sunglasses.

Louis turned to Harry and smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Harry's mouth. When he pulled away, Harry's eyes were dazed, lips curling at the edges. Louis never got sick of seeing Harry look at him like that.

“You say the funniest things sometimes, love,” Louis pulled out their boarding passes from his pocket and checked the gate number, “OK, this is it. We should be boarding-”

At that moment, a female voice called out that all passengers travelling with British Airways should proceed to their gate. Sure enough, a queue was beginning to form alongside them and Louis hastily shuffled Harry into the line. As they stood waiting, Louis glanced over at Harry, who was opening his luggage and trying to fish out his Kindle from the very bottom, where he'd packed it. Unfortunately, when he'd finally retrieved it and tried to zip the bag up again, it wouldn't co-operate. Louis let out a long sigh and set a hand on Harry's arm, urging him aside.

“Here, let me, love.”

As Louis pulled the zip shut, he felt Harry's arms slide around his waist and a mouth close to his ear, whispering ' _my hero_ '.

“Stop trying to sweet-talk me, Styles,” Louis muttered, but his smile urged Harry to keep going.

“Make me.”

They exchanged amused looks with each other as the line continued to move. Eventually, they reached the front and handed in their boarding passes. When they finally got on the plane, Harry sat in the window seat and Louis sat in the middle. For the duration of the flight, they watched movies on Harry's phone and slept with their heads resting against each other, unable to stop touching for even a second.

“You excited to go back?” Louis asked, mumbling into Harry's shoulder.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, sleepily, “best present ever.”

A month after Louis and Harry had finally declared themselves 'official,' Louis bought Harry tickets to go back to Thailand, knowing how much Harry had loved it the first time he went there and how much he wanted to go back. Louis hadn't intended to splurge, honest, but whenever he'd passed by the travel agents and saw the deal in the window, he just couldn't pass it up. Besides, Louis and Harry had both gotten paid rather handsomely for the Toyota campaign that they'd both worked on, which was set to go full speed ahead in early August, and Louis couldn't resist the chance to reward them both for all the hard work they'd done. The opportunity had been too good to pass up.

Besides, it had been worth it to see the look on Harry's face when he'd opened the card Louis had presented him with, only to find all the travel information inside.

“What's this?” Harry had asked, eyes wide and glittering with realisation, even before Louis had told him the answer.

“What does it look like?”

Harry had simply stared at the tickets in silence, then immediately reached forward and pulled Louis into the tightest hug he'd ever received from another human being.

“I can't accept this,” Harry had said as he pulled back from Louis, hands grabbing his small shoulders, fingers digging into skin, “I can't.”

“You can,” Louis had said, reaching up to stroke Harry's hair, clearing the strands from his eyes, “it's for you. For us.”

Harry's cheeks turned red as he bit the skin of his lip, staring at Louis in wonder. They'd both been so shy in those early days, not sure how soon was too soon after Harry had broken off his engagement with Darren to start calling themselves exclusive. A large part of that was due to the fact that Harry hadn't wanted Darren to find out about their relationship too soon, as it would've only hurt him, and Louis wanted to give Harry space and time. Neither of them had wanted to rush into a relationship too quickly. However, judging from the look on Harry's face when Louis had shown him the tickets, they were definitely both on the same page.

The best part about being with Harry, though, was the fact that Louis knew he wasn't perfect. In fact, far from the idealised version of Harry that Louis had previously had in his head, he'd come to realise after months of being in a relationship with him that Harry was, in fact, the opposite of perfect. Harry chewed with his mouth open and talked while Louis was trying to watch television, prone to casually spurting out spoilers during pivotal scenes. He opened new boxes of cereal when the old boxes weren't finished and then tried to seal them back up so Louis wouldn't notice. He was so fucking annoying sometimes Louis could scream and yet Louis craved him every moment of the day, couldn't stand to be apart from him and the thought of it made every bone in his body ache because he was so filled with love that there was no way to fully express it.

“I think we're here,” Harry said, pointing out the window.

Louis leaned over Harry's lap and gazed down at where blue sea met green, humid earth beneath them. When he looked back up, Harry smiled at him.

“I hope you're ready to do some serious sight-seeing. I'm going to wear you out, Tomlinson.”

Louis grinned and pulled the sunglasses that were propped on his head down onto his nose.

“I was born ready, Styles.”

-*-

Harry had not been kidding when he said he would wear Louis out.

In the two weeks since they'd touched down in Thailand, Harry had taken Louis to so many quaint, unusual spots that he had lost count. Harry seemed to know all the places that fell under the radar of the average tourist. He took Louis to local flea markets and down old coves on sandy beaches, he just seemed to know where they were and Louis wondered if perhaps they were places he'd visited last time. When he'd asked, Harry had simply smiled in return and tapped his nose, which made Louis scoff and swoon at the same time.

Being _with_ Harry felt so different from being friends with him. Louis had always wondered what it would be like, what Harry would be like as a boyfriend and now that he knew, he found himself having a whole new sense of sympathy for Darren. Harry was just as wonderful as Louis had imagined he would be. Better, in fact. He was attentive and thoughtful and when he smiled at Louis, Louis felt like his insides were being crushed by a fist. Being in a relationship with Harry felt like losing all sense, like falling and falling and never hitting the ground. It was a high that Louis couldn't get enough of and he found it hard not to tell Harry how wonderful he was every second of the day. Louis had never felt so out of control of his own feelings before, yet Harry made him feel safe enough to hand control over.

In the time that Louis and Harry had been together, Louis had only seen Darren once since the break up. It was in the frozen foods aisle at Tesco. Harry had just walked off to go pick up some bread and condiments from another section of the store, leaving Louis alone to pick out something for dinner. As soon as Harry had disappeared out of sight, Louis had felt the presence of someone beside him, watching him. When he'd looked up, his whole body flinched. Darren was staring at him, blue eyes icy and cold, and when Louis had tried to offer a polite greeting, Darren had just snorted and shook his head.

“You two are a thing then, huh?” He'd said, tone implying that he already knew the answer.

“Uhm,” Louis rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. He'd never felt so awkward. “Define 'thing'.”

Darren had looked at Louis for a long, tense moment, then exhaled a bitter laugh, “I fucking knew it.”

With that, Darren had reached over to grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer beside Louis and continued on his way. When Harry had returned, Louis decided against telling him what had happened. He knew it would've just upset him. Still, Louis hadn't been able to forget about the encounter for weeks.

When their holiday finally came to an end, they decided to spend their last night on the beach behind their hotel. They were sharing an ice-cream and walking along the shore as Louis thought about all these things. Harry, completely oblivious, was chatting to Louis about something completely unrelated, dressed in a pair of burnt orange shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, causing the strands to stick out at odd angles. When Harry stopped and sat down on the sand to watch the waves slide up to the shore and back again, Louis sat down beside him and watched the concentrated frown on Harry's face. Harry turned to him, raised his eyebrows and smiled,

“What?”

“What do you mean, 'what'?” Louis replied.

“You're smiling at me,” Harry said, bringing his legs up and resting his chin on his knees, “why?”

Louis shook his head, turning away, a slight burn in his cheeks,

“Oh, sorry, didn't realise. It's nothing.”

“Tell me,” Harry said, softly.

Once again, Louis felt that familiar feeling of falling in his stomach.

“Just...” he hesitated for a moment, but forced himself to continue, “just sometimes I look at you and I feel so lucky. That's all.”

Harry's face remained unchanged for a moment, then a smile sprouted over his features, so big and bright it threatened to break his cheekbones.

“Don't let Niall hear you say that,” Harry teased, “he already thinks I've made you soft.”

Louis laughed, “Well, you have.”

Harry blushed and finished off the rest of his ice-cream in silence.

They looked out over the sea for a few moments, watching the sun set in the distance, turning the sky to sunburst. Birds chirped overhead, singing a song to the ocean. A light breeze caressed Louis' skin, causing him to shiver and Harry immediately reacted by shuffling closer and wrapping his arms around Louis' torso.

“You're like a human koala,” Louis chuckled, pressing closer into Harry's warmth.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.”

After a moment they settled into each other, Harry rubbing his hands up and down the lengths of Louis' arms, trying to spread some warmth into them. Louis was about to tell Harry that he wasn't really all that cold, but bit his tongue.

“Is it as good as you remember?” Louis asked, peering up at Harry with wide eyes, “Thailand, I mean.”

“Better,” Harry replied, perfectly serious, “I'm here with you this time.”

Louis tried to remain casual, but he couldn't stop himself from grinning and turning his face away like an idiot.

“That's not what I meant,” Louis huffed out a shy laugh.

“I know,” Harry said, “but it's what I meant.”

Louis leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. When he tried to pull away, he felt Harry's fingers lightly touching his jaw, holding him in place, so he opened his mouth and let his tongue touch Harry's. The kiss was feather-light and soft and so intimate Louis' toes curled in the sand. When he pulled away, he felt dizzy with a sudden, acute pang of lust. Harry had this incredible way of making him feel wound tight with desire at even the most innocent displays of affection.

“I always dreamed of bringing you here, did you know that?” Harry asked, voice low and private, eyes glittering in the twilight, “I thought about it so many times.”

Louis' stomach swooped again, stealing the breath from his lungs.

“I thought you wanted to come here on your honeymoon?” Louis asked, clearing his throat, trying to dislodge the lump of nerves there.

He knew he was fishing for information, but he wanted to hear Harry say the words.

“I know,” Harry replied, brow pinching for a moment, “but I wanted it to be you. I always wanted it to be you.”

Louis said nothing. He was too shocked to do anything but listen.

“Ever since the moment I met you, I always knew I wanted to be someone special to you. I wanted you to like me so much, it was embarrassing!” Harry said, eyes wide, “Seriously, Lou, when I think back at how obvious I was, I feel humiliated. How could you not have known?”

Louis' mouth dropped open, “ _I_ was being obvious!”

Harry shook his head, “You weren't. You were like that with everyone, whereas I'm usually pretty damn charming, but around you I was just...” Harry raised his hand and let it fall, “a mess.”

“You're so wrong, I was the mess!”

“It was definitely me,” Harry shook his head, vehemently, “I was way more obvious.”

“Yeah? Well, did Niall ever give you warning glances across the office when you were being too obvious?”

Harry paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow, “He did that?”

“He did,” Louis nodded, “I was that obvious.”

“Yeah, well, not obvious enough, because I never noticed.”

Louis burst out laughing, because he couldn't believe how differently they'd both viewed the exact same situation and the argument was so ridiculous. Harry soon joined in laughing, because it really was quite funny and when they finally stopped, they just smiled at each other.

“Hey,” Harry said, nudging Louis' arm and pulling him closer, burying his face in the tufts of Louis' hair, “you make me feel lucky too, just so you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so incredibly lucky, Lou. These past six months have been...” Harry sighed and looked up, “perfect.”

Louis' heart thudded once in his chest, touched by the utter sincerity in Harry's voice.

“I wouldn't want to be here with anybody else but you,” Harry continued, “you're the only one.”

“I am?”

Harry nodded, then quietly added, “You're _the_ one.”

In that moment, Louis launched himself onto Harry, pushing him back into the sand and caressing his face with kisses. Harry laughed and held onto Louis, fingers pressing into his back, pulling him closer, chests heaving together. Louis propped one hand in the sand above Harry's head and held himself up, looking down at Harry's sand-covered face. After a moment, he smiled and quietly replied,

“I always knew I was.”

When the sun set and it was time for them to head back to their hotel, they both gathered up their belongings and made their way back up the beach, where they'd came from. As they reached the set of steps that took them back to their hotel, Harry pulled out his camera and turned it around so that it captured them both against the backdrop of the ocean. Of course, Louis couldn't resist saying something cheeky just as Harry was about to snap the picture, so the image caught was one of Louis holding his hand up to his mouth, sniggering mischievously while Harry ugly-laughed beside him. When Harry reviewed the picture, he turned to Louis and gave him a dark look,

“You ruined it.”

“Let me see!”

“No, I look awful!” Harry gasped.

Louis scoffed, “I doubt that.”

“It's true.”

“I'll be the judge of that if you'd just...” Louis reached out to snatch the camera, but Harry was too quick and too tall, holding it over his head.

Louis folded his arms and pursed his lips, shaking his head,

“I'm not jumping,” Louis said, “I'm not a performing seal, Harold, have some respect.”

Harry laughed and pulled the camera back down, handing it to Louis.

“I win,” Louis said, smugly.

Harry just rolled his eyes and continued up the steps, not waiting for Louis to follow. Louis pulled the camera towards him and pressed a button to view the picture. When he saw it, his whole body felt light and airy. It captured them both perfectly, everything, from the crinkles by Louis' eyes to the scrunch of Harry's nose as he laughed, the picture was just _them_. Louis wanted to hold it up to the world and rub their love in its cynical face.

After a quiet moment of smiling stupidly at the picture, he heard Harry's voice calling out to him from up ahead. Louis replied that he would be there in a moment, then turned to look out over the ocean for one, final time. As he watched the rippling waves break out over the shore, he couldn't stop the little zip in his stomach from forming when he quietly thought about what it might be like to kneel down on one knee and hold up a ring against a backdrop like that.

 _Some day..._ Louis promised, then turned and followed the sound of Harry's voice.

-*-


End file.
